Out Of The Shadows
by Coutelier
Summary: Long ago, the infant child of Bhaal taken in by Gorion was killed in a dreadful accident.  But all was not lost, for there was another Bhaalspawn hidden away in Candlekeep, and this is her story.
1. Prologue

Previously entitled 'The Fail Safe'. The first few chapters of that I wrote were really just the first draft of this. Some bits I've kept the same, but the rest has been overhauled and tweaked slightly. A major change is that there's this whole new prologue that takes place before being captured by Irenicus' minions.

It of course should go without saying that since this is fanfiction dot net, the following is fan fiction and not owned by me. Baldur's Gate 2 is owned by Wizards of the Coast and Bioware. I'm not really sure exactly who owns what.

**Out Of The Shadows**

**Prologue**

In the city of Baldur's Gate the people made merry. The celebration that had been planned to mark Sarevok Anchev's crowning as a Duke instead marked his fall and the end of the Iron crisis, his plans to bring about war with Amn and use the bloodletting to bring about his own ascent to Godhood thwarted. Even now, months later, the people who would have been made a sacrifice upon the most vast and bloody altar the world had ever seen sang songs of the heroes who had saved him. And yet, although the names of those heroes were now known to everyone in that city, few had any idea what they looked like. For various reasons, they deigned never to appear at any celebration in honour of them. For it was not in a thief's nature to take centre stage and the band was made up of others who would find it difficult to remain in the same career should their faces become well known.

At least that was the case for most of them. There was one who, although he had only been an acquaintance of the heroes for a short time, was regaling the customers of a small on the very edge of the city with tales of their exploits together, with only a small amount of creative license.

"... and so the Spider Queen unleashed her eight legged minions. The others, whose legs were all entangled in the web, could do no more than reach for their clubs and staves, using them to keep the beasts chattering mandibles just out of reach. But it was only a matter before they all succumbed to fatigue and found themselves surrounded. Only I, Eldoth Kron, with the enchanted boots I was wearing, that could still move freely."

"What did you do?" Asked a member of the entranced audience. Eldoth turned to him, placing his tankard of ale down on the table and putting a foot up on a stool as he stroked his little black goatee beard.

"My first instinct, my friend, was to draw my sword," which he did right there in the tavern, holding it up for all to see, "and rush to the aid of my comrades. But as the Spiders came in from either side, I noticed a gap; a straight path between me and Centeol. In that moment I realised that if I cut off the head, the rest shall fall into confusion. And so I ran and I leapt," he kicked away the stool and flipped his sword in his hands so it was pointing downwards, "plunging my sword through the layers of flabby skin, into the cursed creature's vile heart. She screamed and threw back her head, a black ichor dripping from her lips. With her dying breath she cursed the name of the man who had condemned her to this fate; the man she had once loved, Jon Icarus."

"What happened next?"

"I am sorry, my friends," Eldoth picked up his ale. "But it appears that I am out of drink, and out of time." There were groans of protest all round, bringing a smile to the bard's lips. "But, return tomorrow and perhaps I shall have another story for you then."

The groans continued as he made his bow and disappeared into the crowd of sailors and travellers into a corner of the smoke filled tavern, picking up a plate filled with coins on the way. Waiting for him there was a young brown haired woman, a little dishevelled having struggled to put on her clothes that morning. Although if Eldoth had his way, she wouldn't have had to bother.

"Eldoth... you're so brave," she said starry-eyed, tugging on his sleeve urging him to sit next to her.

"A man just does what he has to, Skie my dear," he put down the plate and leant across pecking her on the neck where he knew she was ticklish.

"St-stop it!" She giggled, "we... we do have a serious matter we need to discuss."

"Don't worry about it," he said, going down her arm.

"I... someone has to," Skie huffed, pulling her hand away. "Since I ran away with you, Daddy has cut me off. My whole family denies I ever existed. And even with all these tips you're getting," she reached into the plate, allowing a handful of the copper and silver coins to tumble through her fingers, "we can barely afford our room, yet alone new clothes. Did you know I've been wearing the same shoes for two whole weeks? I'd really like a bath too... honestly, how can anyone live like this? And I haven't mentioned food or your tab here..."

"I've told you; it's not woman's place to worry about financial matters. All you have to do is make sure the bed is made and that you are on it, waiting for me when I come back tonight."

"But..."

"Shhh," he pressed his finger against her lips, "trust me; after tonight, neither of us will have to worry, and you'll be able to have all the shoes you want."

"Why? You... you're not thinking of doing something dangerous, are you?"

"Not at all. Don't you trust me?"

"Well, I-I," Skie stuttered, unsure.

"Say yes."

"Yes," she said obediently. "I... of course I trust you."

"Good," Eldoth winked and stood up.

"Where are you going?" She asked. He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I will see you later, my dear," was all he said as he kissed her on the cheek and left the girl there, alone, her eyes watching him suspiciously as he went out the door.

* * *

A pale disc hung in the cold night sky. The city docks were busy again and watching all the activity below was a figure dressed in black, stood up on one of the cranes. She had pulled down her hood so that her shoulder length red hair was fluttering in the wind.

From here, Imoen could look out all across, at all the roofs and houses. She could see the wizard towers, the Iron Throne, Hall of Wonders... all places that brought back memories. Not all good, but... all exciting. She could see the Ducal Palace as well, where she and her companions had been enjoying the Dukes hospitality these last few months. But nice a place as it was with all its warm cosy rooms and servants making a fuss of them all the time, Imoen was just... really bored. It seemed like there were no monsters or bad people or insane sorcerers left round here.

It was funny; she'd never thought she'd become an adventurer, yet alone a 'hero' who had saved this entire city. She'd never been very strong and had lost both of the fights she'd gotten into when she was little. But then, she guessed she never thought much about the future at all growing up. She guessed she'd always took her life for granted and that it would always remain pretty much the same. Maybe, just _maybe_, her foster father Winthrop would have died one day and she would have taken over running the Inn in the fortress library/monastery of Candlekeep, but otherwise... it hadn't worked out like that though. One day her teacher, Gorion, had come in and said they were going on a trip. She'd assumed they were going to the city as part of her education, but then she'd found that letter and then... things started happening so fast and she was pretty much just dragged along with them.

She remembered that first night alone in the woods after Gorion had... after he died. She remembered being chased, stumbling and tripping a few times and getting little cuts and bruises all over her body from all the rocks and branches. But she hadn't noticed the pain, not until much later anyway; she was too busy fearing for her life. But the funny thing was, she'd actually liked being scared. She'd liked feeling her own heart pumping and seeing and hearing the world more vividly and clearly than she had ever done before. After a while, you ended up becoming addicted to that sensation. She guessed that was why so few adventurers ever retired, at least not in the sense of them growing old. Even now, as she stood high up on the crane staring into the dark waters below, she was aware that there was a part of herself that wanted the rest of her to fall, and... _ohhh... what was that?_

Imoen had caught the moonlight reflecting off something in the water... something shiny. But that little distraction was accompanied by a gust of wind. She wobbled for a few seconds, but couldn't regain her balance, and so she dived.

Moments after she'd been swallowed by the sea, bubbles started to rise by the pier a few metres away. Imoen surfaced there and after a long, much needed gasp, climbed the ladder back onto the pier. As she lay on her back there, staring up at the crane she'd dropped, she experienced a euphoric moment as she contemplated all she'd been through and survived. And she'd gotten herself some kind of compass; she'd seen something like it in the Hall of Wonders. The euphoria did not last long, however.

"You stupid child," Imoen twisted her head and could see Jaheira standing upside down with her arms crossed. The rest of them; Khalid, the huge tattooed warrior Minsc and his witch Dynaheir, were standing just a bit behind her. "After everything, that would have been a stupid way to die, do you not think?"

"Thanks for asking, Jae," the redhead grinned facetiously, "but I'm okay. Really."

"Good. I would have hated for something terrible to happen to you before I have had a chance," the tawny haired druid held out her hand and helped the soaking Imoen to her feet. It didn't sound good though...

"You didn't come all this way just to lecture me, did you?" Imoen stood up and sighed wearily.

"Not just, no," Jaheira pulled out and unwound a scroll she had tucked in her belt, "this is a list of all the items that have 'mysteriously' disappeared from the Ducal Palace while we have been staying there. They include, among other things, Duke Eltan's crown, Belt's shield and Lady Jannath's hair. There have also been a number of very strange occurrences; apparently someone tried to take a bath only to find the tub full of worms, the guards all had their pants shrunk, while they were wearing them, and in the dining hall it started raining lizards. You would not happen to know anything that would shed light on any of these things, would you?"

"Okay, Lady Jannath's hair falling off... that wasn't actually me. But, boy... I wish it had been," the redhead sniggered.

"This is no laughing matter, child!" The half elven woman hissed angrily. "These people extend their hospitality to us, and you repay them like this?"

"Oh, come on Jae. They were jokes; it's not like anyone really got hurt or anything."

"What about Entar Silvershield's valet disappearing?"

"He came back, didn't he?"

"Yes... as a penguin."

"Big improvement, if you ask me. But he got better, didn't he? And all that other stuff that disappeared, it's all still lying about that place somewhere. It's not like I went out and pawned any of it."

"That is not the point, you insufferable, empty headed mooncalf. The point is that those things were never yours to take in the first place!"

"I'm starting to get a chill here... Siccus," Imoen said, holding out her arms. Her clothes and her hair fluttered rapidly as air twirled around her body. Within a moment she was almost completely dry again. "There; now you won't have to worry about me catching a cold."

"I was not worried about that," Jaheira said, her eyes narrowed and pointed straight at Imoen. "Not at all. But, what does worry me is your continuing reckless, irresponsible and childish behaviour."

"Well, y'know Jae," the young redhead shifted furtively, "maybe if you didn't treat me like a child all the time I wouldn't feel a need to be one."

"Oh no... I guide you as best I can, but only you are responsible for your own actions."

"Good. Well then, you can leave me alone now, can't ya?"

"You should not have snuck out of the palace without telling anyone," Jaheira sighed, but Imoen immediately spotted the fallacy in that statement.

"Well, I wouldn't have been sneaking if I told people about it now, would I?" The redhead rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"What if someone out here were to spot you on your own and recognise you?"

"Like who? It's not like there are portraits of me anywhere. And the Imoen they all talk about in the taverns is six foot tall and has breasts each the size of a man's head... they'd never, ever believe it was me."

"Your face is known to some."

"So?" Imoen shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm one of the heroes of Baldur's Gate... what, you think I might be trampled to death by people asking for my autograph? Anyway, I know magic now, so I can take care of myself."

"Oh, really?" Jaheira cocked an eyebrow.

"Really."

"Very well then," the half elf turned as if she was about to walk away, but then suddenly she spun back round swinging her fist. It connected with Imoen's chin, lifting the younger woman and sending her flying back and landing on her arse.

"Owwwwie!" The redhead protested loudly, nursing her injured jaw as her eyes watered. "W-what did you do that for?"

"You said you could protect yourself, and yet I surprised you did I not? You did not even try to block... what if I were some thug who thought I could make a name for myself by killing one of the heroes of Baldur's Gate?"

"I can't believe you..." Imoen sniffed, "I mean, point made, okay? I won't do it again... you bufflehead _(sniff)_..."

"D-don't you think y-y-you went a bit... t-too far there, my dear?" Khalid, another half-elf and Jaheira's husband, said.

"I have always thought the best way to learn is through experience," Jaheira defended her actions. "This is how I was taught."

"P-perhaps not such a good reason to make the younger generation suffer the same."

"I was never prepared this, my love," Jaheira sighed, closing her eyes. "It was so simple when it was just you and I travelling together... now, having three other people to manage as well. It... it is much harder than I thought it would be."

"You do fine... u-usually. And, y-you h-hardly need to manage Dynaheir, or even Imoen... n-not all the time, anyway. She's just young, and... g-going through a bit of rebellious stage at the moment. Re-remember when you dyed your hair orange just to annoy the guildmaster?"

"Yes," Jaheira smiled, "but... this is hardly the same. You as I that things will only get more difficult from here on. There is so little time left and she must be ready."

"You n-need to trust her, dear... I-I believe that when it matters, she will make the right choices. M-more importantly y-you need to trust yourself, that your influence will help her. I-I'll be honest, my dear, you... y-you can be a little stifling and over bearing sometimes."

"I can?" The druid blinked in surprise. "Well... perhaps I do far on occasion. So... what should I do now?"

"Right now? Well, y-you've made your point so you should go over there, apologise, and... m-maybe say something positive? So that no ill-feeling lingers."

"Apologise?" Jaheira asked like it was some strange foreign word.

"Yes. Apologise."

"Right. I can... do that. I think," she braced herself for doing the unthinkable and marched across to where Imoen was still sobbing and groaning.

"Y-you adlepated ninnyhammer," Imoen sniffed and wiped at her face.

"Oh, stop trying to milk it. I did not hit you that hard."

"I'm seeing stars!"

"Those are stars."

"Oh... well, you're still a bufflehead."

"I... I am sorry," Jaheira said, swallowing her pride. "I... should not have done that. It is just... I know you are a lot cleverer than I am," the druid remembered 'something positive'. "The only way I know to get things done is with my fists. But that is also why I become angry when I see you are not fulfilling your potential."

"Well... I know I'm silly sometimes," Imoen's anger and tears subsided. "It's just... I've been getting so bored hanging about here... I feel like I'm wasting away. Hey... why don't we all go somewhere, together?"

"Where?"

"Anywhere. C'mon, Jae," Imoen sprung up to her feet. "You've been getting restless too, cooped up in that palace all day. You need to have nature around you... and you need some action. I bet you've just been dying to punch someone for ages. Now let's all of us go and bash a few numskulls heads together."

"It would not be wise to go looking for trouble..." Jaheira shook her head, although her hand was tightening around the hilt of her scimitar.

"We don't have to look for it... we're just bound to find some somewhere, right? Remember you used to say, 'if a tree falls in the forest, you'd kill the bastard what done it!'? Well, while we've been resting here I'm guessing there's been a lot of trees and a lot of bastards, just let to run loose."

"Perhaps... perhaps we have rested long enough..."

"Then let's go tonight! We're all here, so let's grab a few horses and see where the road takes us."

"Tonight?" Jaheira repeated, rubbing her throat. It was very tempting, but, they had responsibilities, didn't they? They should at least tell the Duke they were leaving; it was common courtesy after all...

"Your mouth must still be dry from all that yelling," Imoen unhooked the flask from her belt, "here... have a drink while you mull it over."

"We should thank Eltan for his hospitality, first," the druid said, accepting the flask and taking a swig. "And really, we should..." Jaheira suddenly shut her lips and turned red. She looked like she was about to vomit, but was trying to somehow hold it in. She couldn't, and it came out, "_...hee-haw..._" a very unmistakable equine noise.

"I'm sorry, what was that Jae?" Imoen grinned, putting her hand to her ear theatrically. "Couldn't make it out..."

"_Hawww..._" Jaheira tried to speak, but immediately shut her mouth as she found this was the only sound that would come out. You could now see the veins on her head starting to bulge as her blood pumped full of rage.

"Oh dear, Jae... did I surprise you? Still, you will nag, won'tcha?" The once again furious druid lunged, but this time Imoen was ready and danced and skipped away, laughing. Jaheira kept lunging after her, but Khalid held her back.

"Now, now, my dear... l-lets not overreact, shall we?"

"_Haw, haw... heee!_" She said in response.

"Oh dear... I hope you don't sprout a tail. Er, D-D-Dynaheir?" He looked around; Imoen had already disappeared again. The dark skinned witch was standing on the pier looking up at the crane. "I-I-I've a little problem here... could do with your expertise..."

"The magic will wear off in a few moments," she waved him off, clearly busying herself in thought.

"Is... i-is something there bothering you?"

"Hmm... from the height she fell, and the way she hit the water, young Imoen is lucky indeed to have survived with no injury."

"You... think it was not luck?"

"I have noted that Imoen has had more than her fair share of such luck, especially of late. And since I started to teach her magic she has progressed at a faster pace than I would ever have anticipated."

"So, s-she's... gifted?"

"Most definitely, but... hast thou not noticed as well? It is as if little bits of reality are changed around her... only small things, but still..."

"I-I-I don't know what you mean..."

"She seems so normal, that it is easy for us to forget what she is; that she is half-deity like her brother, Sarevok. A God's power grows in response to people's worship and belief... and the people of this city have been singing songs about her."

"So... w-we should leave, then?"

"I am undecided as to what would be best. Surely, a stronger Imoen is better for us all, but," the witch turned around, her dark eyes sparkling as they caught the moon, "one cannot forget that the divine essence in her is that of Bhaal, Lord of Murder."

* * *

Imoen looked up as a large crate flew through the air high above her head; tracing its trajectory it looked it had been tossed out of one the warehouses down the way, and would probably land somewhere in the marketplace at the centre of the city. Suddenly there were people panicking; a small group rushed past her and she decided to stop one of them.

"She's lost her head!" The man said.

"Who?" Imoen asked.

"Some little bitch-priestess of Umberlee... just came into the warehouse and started smashing everything. I think she might have summoned an elemental as well..."

"Tenya? Is it Tenya?" Imoen chanced. Of course there were lots of The Bitch Queen Umberlee's initiates in the city; since the Goddess's domain was the ocean, it was natural that all the sailors in a port such as this would make substantial offerings to her. But only one of the initiates Imoen knew by name. "About twelve or thirteen years old, black hair?"

"What! I don't know... could be, I suppose. .."

"It is her!" Another man said. "I make offerings each day at the temple; heard this morning she'd got into some kind of fight with another wave servant. Don't know if that could have caused all this ruckus though..." there went another crate, taking out the mast of a ship. "C'mon, lets just get out of here!" The men ran off.

Imoen put her hands on her hips, sighing as she watched more crates being thrown through the warehouse roof high into the air. She'd encountered this girl, Tenya, the first time on her way into the city. Her mother had been killed and she was terrorizing some fishermen she believed were responsible and... well, she was right. They were very desperate men who had done a very stupid thing. But, what was this about?

While she was thinking about it, Jaheira rushed Imoen, grabbing the redhead by the collar and pinning her against a wall.

"Oh... heya, Jae!" The prankster smiled nervously. "You... you're all better, I see..."

"Give me one reason not to tear out your spine!" The druid spat out.

"I... don't... have one?" The girl whimpered.

"Perhaps we should just see."

"Well, there's... that..." Imoen pointed a finger towards the warehouse; there were now barrels flying out of it, smashing into walls and into the ocean.

"What is that?"

"You know, I think it's probably just attention seeking," Imoen said, but Jaheira just kept glaring. "It's Tenya. Apparently she went in and just started wrecking the place for no reason."

"Lucky you," The druid said, letting Imoen go and then drawing her scimitar. "It seems I will be letting out my frustration on someone else tonight... but do you not think I will not be punishing you somehow."

"Woah... h-hey there," Imoen ran around and stood in front of the druid, making downwards motions with her palms. "Look, there's no need for that, is there?" Imoen indicated the sword, and then ducked as barrel went past her.

"We have to something. If this goes on someone is bound to get hurt."

"Yeah, but... listen, she maybe an evil little... witch," Imoen chose her words carefully. "But she's still a kid. She... just wants her mum. "

"Her mother is dead."

"But, you could go in and just try to talk her. Maybe put your arm around her and tell her that whatever it is, it's all going to be alright. That's what mums are supposed to do, I think."

"Me?"

"Well... you like being all mumzy, dont'cha?"

"You know, child," Jaheira sheathed her sword, "I do believe you may actually have the right idea, for once. But, your plan needs one tiny alteration made to it..."

* * *

"Heya!" Imoen beamed as widely as she could in the circumstances. She was careful to make sure she was within reach of cover as she approached the priestess, stepping over all the debris and rubble inside the warehouse. "It's me... do you remember me? Imoen."

It seemed Tenya had grown tired from whatever she'd been doing. The girl was slumped on her knees in the middle of all the wreckage in her blue and green tunic. She looked up, slowly, when she heard Imoen's voice, revealing her dark eyes and tear stained face.

"What do you want?" She said. "To die? Is that it? I would be happy to oblige you..."

"Just checking up on you," Imoen knelt beside the girl, relaxing a bit; it was clear to her now that Tenya had exhausted all of her power. "See how you were doing... oh, and ask if there was any special reason for... all of this."

"What do you care?"

"Oh, I don't care at all. Not really. I just hate to see so much good food and wine go to waste, is all."

"Just leave me be, or I'll..."

"You'll what? Under normal circumstances if it was just me in here alone with you, I'd actually be pretty scared. But right now, I don't think there's anything you can do," Tenya glared at the redhead; she was good at it. In a few more years, she'd probably be able to out glare even Jaheira. But her silence gave her away. "So, I think I shall just sit here until you decide to talk."

"I despise you, Imoen. You are the weakest person I have ever met. You have no will, no ambition, content to just live your life being led around by others like some yapping little puppy. To think that you might one day become a God makes me sick to my bones. So, of all people, why would I want to talk to you?"

"Because I'm here," Imoen shrugged. She would have slapped the little... witch. But then Tenya might slap her back and despite being older Imoen wasn't one hundred per cent sure whose slap would hurt most.

"You would not understand, anyway."

"Well, try me. I know it's hard to believe but, beautiful and charming a person as I am, I have problems sometimes as well. Sometimes things happen that make me feel sad and lonely, and sometimes I get really mad and want to smash things up. Maybe not to this extent, but still..."

"What's happened to you?"

"Well, pretty much all the people I knew and cared about when I was growing up are dead. I found out I had a brother... and then I had to kill him. Actually, I found out I had two brothers; there was another one who died when I was still a baby. See, it turns out none of this stuff was supposed to happen to me; I was plan B. And well... maybe you're right. So many have been fighting and dying because of me and I've just been going along with it feeling powerless to do anything about it. I didn't even find out why it was happening until just before the end... so, all in all, hasn't been a great year for me."

"Why haven't you gone insane?"

"None of it has seemed real," Imoen shrugged. "I keep thinking I'm going to wake up some day and everything will back to normal... I know I won't, but... well, I'm not the type to dwell on things for very long either. Low attention span; I guess it can be an advantage, sometimes. What about you? How's your year been?"

"My mother died."

"Yeah," Imoen bit her lip; that was a stupid thing to forget all of a sudden.

"It doesn't matter; death is a fact life. Everyone must face it at some time or another. Besides, Umberlee is mother now..."

"Uh-huh... but it's not quite the same, is it? Umberlee isn't always there in person to give you the support you need... or praise you when you've done something good like spilt the guts of a little lamb or whatever it is you people do to enjoy yourselves. She isn't always there to put her arms around you when you're hurt or do any of the other things earthly mothers are supposed to do... do you want a hug?"

"Keep your arms away from me!" Tenya hissed a warning, and Imoen took the hint.

"You're lucky though; I never even knew my mother. Still don't know anything about her, but I know she died when I was born."

"It... can happen, sometimes. Even when the very best healers are present." That... that almost sounded like consolation, from Tenya. Imoen was astonished; it seemed like she was actually getting the girl to open up... she bet Jae didn't really think she could, and they were all waiting outside, still, with their weapons drawn for when she inevitably messed this up. "Even when there is a chance of resurrection, it is ultimately the Gods who decide who gets to go on living... although I can't say I always understand their choices."

"Yeah, that's... that's a tough one, all right," but Imoen really didn't like to dwell on things. No point for things like that, anyway. "So... someone said you got into some kind of fight?"

"Yes," Tenya nodded.

"Did you win?"

"Yes."

"So... why do this?"

"I was still angry. She... she insulted my mother. Said she'd died because she was weak. But my mother was never weak; she was the most evil, vile and cruel person I've ever known, and... It's... it's not fair that she's gone!" Tenya started to sob, and before Imoen knew it had allowed herself to fall sideways so that her head was resting on the redheads shoulder.

"Er... yeah. There, there... it... it's all going to be alright."

"Just so you know," the younger girl sniffed, "soon as I've got my powers back, I will kill you in the most horrible way I can think of... it... it'll probably involve snails in some way that I haven't quite figured out yet. But as soon as I do, you're dead."

* * *

"What happened?" Jaheira asked when Imoen finally reappeared. Although she had a fair idea already; she had been watching her the entire time in case Tenya did become unruly.

"Oh, well, we talked it over," Imoen explained, "and she's going to be a... well, she's still going to be evil, but she's promised not to demolish any more buildings from now on. At least not buildings she isn't sanctioned to destroy."

"Even though I am, in a way, disappointed," Jaheira said, once again having to sheath her sword, "I must say that for once you have done well. Now, let us return to the palace..."

"Jaheira," Imoen interrupted, "I... I was serious when I said I wanted to leave the city... and now I think I've found another reason to do so in a hurry..." she looked sideways at the young priestess.

"We can discuss it back at the palace."

"Wait!" Tenya said in a commanding voice; it was amazing that such a small girl could generate such tones. "While you are here, there is something I will allow you all to assist."

"What?" Imoen asked, really quite wanting to get away from the girl now...

"Augery; I have an examination in a week, and I need practice. Besides," she turned and smiled cruelly at the redhead, "it might be interesting to see what lies in your future. Assuming you have one, that is."

Reluctantly, Imoen and the rest of the party agreed to have their future read, based on the promise that it would only take a few minutes. And so, they all gathered around a barrel onto a large fish.

"Ewww... you couldn't have found something fresher, could you?" Imoen pinched her nose.

"Around here? No. Now be silent, dog," Tenya was soon falling back into her old habits it seemed. "I need to concentrate."

The teenage priestess took a knife and gutted the fish, allowing its innards to spill out over the top of the barrel.

"Hmm... I see... fangs? It looks like fangs."

"What does that mean?" Imoen raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know," Tenya shrugged. "It's just something with fangs; clearly a big part of your future. Maybe it's how you die."

"Well... at least it's not snails. Does this stuff really work?"

"It's never one hundred per cent accurate," The priestess explained, "the future is made up of many possible paths, but this will this will tell us the things that most likely to happen should things remain on the course they are now and maybe a few things that only might happen should that course be changed... hmm," she kept picking about the entrails, "it says 'the child of the feather shall do battle with the child of scale, and he shall fall by her hand.'"

"Who's that?"

"How should I know? I'm only reading what it says. But this 'child of the feather' is mentioned a few times; she clearly plays an important role in your future. Hm... there are many you may travel with, but... there seem to be six whose power and influence is far greater than the rest. This feather-child is one. Some of the others must be standing here now... but it also mentions a man whose blood is cursed and... your... brother?"

"Brother?" Imoen gasped. "Er... my brothers are dead."

"Those we know of, child," Dynaheir put in, "I find it unlikely that Bhaal would have stopped there."

"In any case, that is what it says. What it means isn't always clear, I'm afraid. I see lots and lots of elves... hm, even dark ones. And," Tenya raised her head, her eyes wide, although it wasn't clear whether that was due to fear.

"What?" Imoen asked, although unsure if she really wanted to know. But, well... she was here now.

"A city in ruins... men, women and children lying dead, and you standing in the middle of it all..."

"What... city?" The redhead asked because she was struggling to think of anything else to say. It wasn't as if it mattered at all.

"I don't know."

"That is enough now," Jaheira said and turned to Imoen who had become very still. "Like she said; these are only things that might happen. Besides, she is inexperienced at this. Probably misreading it entirely."

"Yeah... sure," Imoen answered slowly. "I mean, yeah. Its not like I could be the cause of something like that. I just... I wouldn't... would I... I would never..." although she knew that Bhaal might... and that part of her was him.

"I'm reading it perfectly..." Tenya started protesting.

"I said enough," Jaheira turned and glared at the priestess. She glared back, but yielded, this time.

"H'o there, friends!" Imoen turned at the sound of a new voice; it was turning out to be a very strange night for her indeed. On any other night she would not have been pleased to see that slimy creep Eldoth Kron strutting towards her. "I heard there had been some commotion around here, and thought there would be a good chance I would find you all at the heart of it. Adventurers fly toward danger like moths to a flame."

"What do you want?" Jaheira huffed, clearly not pleased on any level to see him.

"For once, nothing. I was simply wandering the streets on my own when I suddenly started to feel nostalgic. And, so I bought some Berduskan wine and thought to find some of my old friends to share. I know a lovely spot in the woods just outside the city where we can watch the stars and share stories..."

"You mean like the story of how you saved us from Davaeorn? Or killed Centeol all by yourself?" Imoen shook her head. She had no idea what Skie saw in him... he even looked slimy, the way he was sweating all the time. She was afraid to touch him in case she got stuck to him. Just... yuck.

"I may... embellish my stories a bit in the taverns. But that is just what the public wants."

"Doesn't seem to me like you really give them a choice. Besides, what I remember happening was as soon as those spiders appeared you ran, and you hid behind a rock."

"Not so, my dear Imoen. I was there, watching your rear the entire time."

"Ewww! Anyway, where's Skie?" Imoen would have pleased to see her; they really didn't have much in common, what with Imoen growing up doing chores for Winthrop, and Skie growing up having servants to do her chores for her. But Imoen didn't know a whole lot of people the same sort of age as herself. And it wasn't like Jaheira or Dynaheir were ever up for any fun... they were all so grouchy sometimes.

"At home in bed. She's been working very hard of late, the poor dear. I thought it best to let her get some sleep for once. So, will you join me?" Eldoth pinged two of the bottles he had together. "It would be a chance for you to go over my stories and help me to correct any more mistakes."

Imoen and the others all looked at Jaheira; they'd all gotten used to her being the one who always made the final decision.

"Oh, fine," the druid held out her hands. "It is not as if we have anything better going on now."

* * *

"Wh-wh-what are they?" Khalid asked as he lay on his back with his hands behind his head, staring dreamily at the night sky from a clearing in the forest. "T-the stars, I mean."

"Celestial spheres... spirits of the dead... gods," Dynaheir yawned. "There are some now who believe that they may be other suns, just like our own, with worlds just like ours around them, but unbelievably far away. Although many churches would condemn this as heresy."

"So... t-there could be another group of adventurers up there, l-looking back at us..."

"Who cares?" Jaheira huffed. "It is not like we will ever go there... they are hundreds and hundreds of miles away, so why think about it?"

"J-J-Jaheira my dear," Khalid tutted, "I r-r-really worry that you don't always make the most o-of your opportunities to fantasize..."

"Heh," Jaheira turned herself over so that she was lying over Khalid, and then started drawing her finger down his chest. "Who needs fantasy?"

"W-wha... oh?" Khalids eyes went wide suddenly. "Oh... oh... oh my... Yes!"

"Hey you two!" Imoen called from the other side of the campfire. "Pitch a tent first, okay? I mean... yuck... and in front of Minsc too? Corrupting his innocent eyes..."

"Actually, Minsc used to be quite the ladies man," Dynaheir started saying.

"Shut up! I don't want to know..." in any case, look at Minsc now; the seven foot warrior was sat cross legged coddling his hamster. Whatever he was before taking all those blows to the head... well, he wasn't now. Imoen had another and laid, looking at the stars... unbelievably far away. Far enough away that the people there will have never heard of Bhaal? Far enough away, maybe, that she could escape this stupid destiny that was never really hers... but Jaheira was right. No point in fantasizing about that... not anymore...

"I... I'm getting kinda sleepy," she yawned, her eyelids starting to flutter.

"I as well," Dynaheir yawned also.

"Minsc too."

"You didn't even drink anything," Imoen noted. But then she noted his hamster, Boo, licking a few drops that had been spilt. "Oh... that's weird."

Eldoth stood up, brushing himself down.

"Where are you going?" Jaheira asked, although making no effort to move.

"Call of nature, friend," he explained and disappeared behind a tree.

Had the party being paying really close attention, they might have noticed that the bottle in his hands was the same one he'd started the night with, and that although he had pressed it against his lips many times the level of liquor within the container had remained unchanged. He disappeared behind a tree, and kept walking; if he followed the moon he should reach the road soon.

But before he did, he was startled. Three hooded figures dressed in black fell from above... although fell was not quite the right word. Their descent was just a bit too slow and unnatural and their feet touched the ground gently and silently. They blocked Eldoth's path, but he was not worried; not much, anyway.

"It... it is done," he told them. "You'll find what you're looking for just a short way behind me in a clearing."

The middle figure reached beneath his cloak, taking out a small sack. The contents jingled metallically when it was tossed to the bard. And without a word, the three figures strolled past him.

"Um... i-is this all?" Eldoth said, being unusually brave. But, when it came to money... "I thought we had agreed on..."

"_Hssss!_" The lead figure turned on him, bearing some quite impressive looking fangs. "You will get the rest _after_ we have our merchandise."

"Very well," Eldoth thought it wise not to say anymore.

"Come, brothers," the three figures floated into the air, disappearing into the leaves and branches. Eldoth heard rustling all around, and knew it was not the wind. There must have been a dozen or so of the unholy creatures up there.

Eldoth held up and regarded the bag of gold. Was it really worth selling out his former comrades for this? In their current state, they would never stand a chance... he tapped the bag so that it jingled again, and then he thought:

'Oh, well. What's done is done, I suppose.'


	2. Ch 1: The Birdcage

**Out Of The Shadows****  
**

**Chapter One:**

**The Birdcage**

There was a moment in which Imoen wasn't sure if she was waking up or dreaming. It was looking through the lens of some ocular device that you had to twist and move back and forth to bring things into focus; she was sure a Gnome had probably invented something like that. In fact, hadn't she seen it in the Hall of Wonders... or had she dreamt all that? She at least knew what a Gnome was, although specific examples were a little less forthcoming. There was... Alora? Or was she just a really short human... or something else? The only thing really clear in her head right now was the fact that it hurt, which meant she couldn't be dreaming, right? She couldn't recall ever having a dream in which she had a headache. Of course, she couldn't recall much of anything.

Okay... enough! She pinched herself and jerked suddenly, hitting her head against something cold and made of steel. Some people thought a bang on the head actually cured a headache. It didn't. But at least things were a bit clearer now. There was no need for her to get up since she was already sat up on her butt with her legs bent in front of her. She was in a tiny round cage with a round top, like a birdcage with black metal bars. They looked black anyway; there was so little light in this place and a lot less colour. She couldn't see much beyond the bars, but she could hear dripping and a horrible rotting smell, rather like that of the sewers beneath Baldur's Gate.

Was that where she was? Last thing she remembered was being in the woods drinking and then passing out, but not before she thought she'd seen some shadowy figures all around her. She'd never passed out from drinking before, but then she rarely drank much anyway. She'd grown up running the Inn with Winthrop and even though he watered down everything she'd learnt that drunks were not always the funny, harmless people often portrayed in books and plays. She remembered one time a man tried to attack a horse because he thought it had been telling people things about him and his ex-wife. But now wasn't really the time for such digressions; she had to think.

Her first thought, naturally, was to try to find a way out. The pounding in her skull didn't make that easy, continually conspiring to break her concentration. But, after examining it for a minute, she concluded that she could pick the lock, but that was conditional on her having something to pick it with, which she didn't. The cage could perhaps be forced open, but that was conditional on having physical strength greater than that of a dozen mice. She was damn hungry too... hungry and stuck here with only her thoughts for company. So if she didn't die of starvation, she'd die of loneliness. What a great day she was having. Assuming it was day... some bits were still fuzzy. She didn't know how long she'd been a prisoner...

"So," Imoen felt a chill when she heard that voice; she wasn't sure why but she knew her day was about to get a whole lot better. "The child of Bhaal has awoken." Imoen squinted, and could just about make out the white skin of a cold, expressionless face.

"Wha... w-who?" The redhead found her throat very dry.

"Your memories of the last few days will return... probably," Imoen couldn't see what the man was doing, but she could hear creaking leather. "But for now, it is time for some more experiments..."

A narrow beam of white light descended on her from above. It didn't seem to do much; Imoen held up her palm and like a child who had found a butterfly watched curiously the little white dot move about on her hand. But then she started to remember...

"No..." she uttered breathlessly, and then suddenly turned to her captor, eyes pleading. "N-no... please!"

A gear shifted, and a second wider beam crashed down. Imoen felt a wave of searing pain in every part of her body... crushing, burning, drowning... as if it whatever it was that her feel was being activated all at once, making her feel everything. So great was it that she couldn't cry out or scream, much as she wanted too. She was overwhelmed instantly while that blank face behind the controls just watched and made notes.

* * *

Of course, although the daughter of Bhaal found it hard to believe sometimes, life elsewhere still went on. Outside of the place she was trapped, it was a beautiful sunny morning. Skies were blue with not a cloud in sight, and the birds were singing... sort of. Not many birds in a city actually sang; most of them just cooed. Technically, no birds ever sang; they were just making sounds to attract a mate or tell the rest of the flock were food was or if any hungry looking cats were hanging around... but, negative culpability and all that. It didn't matter what the sounds really were; what mattered was how they made us feel. At least in one case, at this moment in time, that feeling was mild annoyance.

A fat pigeon landed on what seemed to it a perfectly good perch; a large wooden frame with canvas spread over it, and began to prune. Just behind it, a head slowly popped up from beneath the wing the bird was sitting on. The head had long blonde hair, wide blue eyes and pointy ears.

"Um... sh-shoo?" The elven girl said weakly, accompanying it with a feeble hand gesture. The pigeon turned and tilted it's head.

"Coo?" It said.

"No... shoo. I...I- I'm trying to fix this thing. You need to get off," the elven girl, Aerie was her name, was like few other elves you were likely to encounter along the Sword Coast and not just because of the way she spoke. Elves were usually very confident and proud; this one had trouble even getting a pigeon to obey her instruction. The way she dressed too, wearing the dirty tunic of a human peasant rather than the very elegant and beautiful patterned clothes of most elves.

Seeing that she wasn't going to convince the bird to go through conversation, she picked up a broom and gently prodded it in the pigeon's direction. The bird took the hint and in flurry of feathers took to the skies no doubt to warn others of its kind about the broom wielding maniac.

Aerie sighed as she watched it climbing away, losing sight of it when it flew in front of the sun. It probably landed somewhere on the roof of the coliseum. Well, they called it The Promenade now. Wagons and tents littered the sandy ground with all kinds of merchants selling various wares. But she'd heard that a very long time ago it hadn't just been a marketplace; it had been a place where people had come to watch chariot races and staged battles. Shows even more spectacular than the ones the circus put on now, if a little more gory. Even so, she imagined it would have been a spectacular sight to behold. A lot more exciting than Dan and his Dancing Dogmen (or Gnolls; she thought they might find the term 'Dogmen' offensive, although they'd never commented on it).

She tried to imagine what it must have been like to be a gladiator in those days, walking out in front of a huge crowd all baying for blood. Scary, yes, knowing that you might die. Maybe you'd feel angry at the crowd for enjoying and encouraging this... but, maybe there would be a tingle of excitement as well. Imagine they made you fight a Fire Giant, and all you had was a wooden shield and little sword... oh, it would probably glare at you and then tell you everything it was going to do before actually doing it. It would just pick you up in one hand and say, in a deep booming voice, something like:

'I'm going to tear off your leg!'

And you would say:

'No! N-not my leg! I need it for standing up on... aggghhh!'

'Now I'm going to tear off your arm.'

'B-but... h-how will I play the fiddle? Arrrggg!'

'Now, I'm going to bite off your squidgy little head...'

"Er... Aerie?"

The elf's eyes suddenly went wide with panic. She'd been so sure no one was looking, and... By Baervar, she'd even been doing the voices, hadn't she? Even the Fire Giant's 'deep booming' voice... not very well, either. She stood up, completely flustered and red. A young man, Charlie, one of the Fools, was watching her very carefully. He was almost fully in costume, apart from the makeup. Just torn, tattered rags barely hanging onto his body. His act mainly consisted of a lot of falling over, pretending to get blown away, that sort of thing.

"Um... I-I was just, um," she tried desperately to explain. "I... I was just... t-talking. To myself."

"Yes," Charlie nodded. "It would have been strange if I'd caught you talking to anyone else like that."

"Heh... y-yes," Aerie grinned nervously. At least Charlie was one of the nicer and more reasonable of her Circus colleagues. If it had been Tira or the Ringmaster she'd be limping back to her caravan and banned from eating. But Charlie was nice really, and she couldn't explain but there something she found very calming about his voice.

"So, apart from talking to yourself, what are you doing here?"

"I... I have to mend the Flying Machine," she explained. The Circus carried around a number of 'Wonders', inventions mainly of Gnomish origin, to show to the public. It had been her Uncle Quayle's idea. He was a Gnome; of course, they weren't actually related. Anyway, it seemed some boys had mistaken the exhibits for a playground causing a bit of damage. But since Quayle and the other Gnomes were busy rehearsing they'd asked Aerie to fix it, perhaps hoping that a little of their technical wizardly had rubbed off on her. There hadn't been a lot of damage really; just some tubes had come loose and the canvas torn in a few places.

"Hmm... Do you think this thing actually could fly?" Charlie asked, stepping back a bit to regard the machine, which just consisted of a wooden frame, canvas and a mess of gears and levers.

"It... i-it says it did, on the plaque, once... b-but..."

"Yes?"

"I-I really don't see how it could..." Aerie said, returning to work on it as she talked, "N-not unless a dragon picked it up with its claws and dropped it o-or some kind of magical assistance anyway. It's... just too heavy. And its wings are too small," Aerie sighed, "but I guess no-one would want to see a Flying Machine that couldn't fly."

"I saw a man around here once, selling these little rocks. He said they were belched from a sacred volcano on an island far to the east and had healing powers having been blessed by the island's high priest... he talked for a while, but those were the main points. But, they were just ordinary rocks. I'd seen him picking them up off the ground earlier in the day and putting them in his sack. Still, people kept wanting to buy the things. So many people wanted one that he had to raise the price of them. I mean, what does tell you about folk?"

"Hm... m-maybe they just liked his story so much that they wanted to feel like they were a part of it?"

"I'd have said that they were all very gullible and stupid. But then I'm just not as nice as you."

"S-sorry..."

"Oh, I wasn't criticizing you; more admiring. It's actually rather easy to be a cynic, especially for the folk around here. But to carry on trying to be nice in spite of everything; that must actually take effort."

The other Folk he was referring were presumably the other Circus worker rather than any of the merchants or their customers. Most of the people in the Circus now were former slaves, convicts and some people who wanted to run away for various reasons. A lot of people who didn't have much reason to be happy; which was ironic considering that spreading happiness was what a Circus was for. 'Charlie', as he called himself now... she guessed he'd had it even worse than most. He'd been just a little boy when he came here, as a slave. He'd arrived the same time Aerie did. The slavers had taken his whole family, cramming them all in to a tiny cage to be transported south. But his mother became and, tightly packed as they were, it wasn't long before they all were. By the time the slavers had arrived at their fortress and opened the cage door they found that he was the only one of his family left alive, the others all dead and rotting around him. After the uprising a few years, in which the Circus slaves were freed, at least in the sense that they now had to be paid at least a tiny bit for doing work, Charlie like most of the other slaves had stayed because he just had nowhere else to go. Maybe he became a Fool to try and make himself laugh as much as anyone else... it concerned Aerie though that every time she saw him he looked more and more tired.

"It... i-it is hard sometimes," the elf admitted, "e-especially with Tira."

"Tira?"

"She... she hates me. I-I don't know why since I'd never even spoken to her... she just took one look and decided not to like me. N-now every time I bump into her I end up getting punched or pushed to the ground. I-it's really starting to be a nuisance."

"She's what we refer to in academia as 'a bully'. Don't let her bother you."

"M-maybe... maybe you could teach me how to fall over? S-so it doesn't always hurt so much...

"Oh there's much more to Fooling than falling, Aerie. Come along with me and I will explain this long and distinguished tradition to you."

"But... I-I haven't finished this..."

"Just stitches left, right? Abe can do it, can't you Abe?" Charlie called out. A heavily built muscled man with tattoos all down his arms answered 'whatever' and went to work with the needle and thread.

"Well... w-where are we going?" Aerie asked.

"Didn't I say? Bentha wanted to see you before she left."

"She's leaving?"

"Apparently."

"Oh," Aerie felt a bit sad about that. Bentha was nice as well and, along with Quayle, she'd been teaching Aerie things; things the elf wasn't supposed to talk about, since they were things forbidden to most people in Amn. But although she travelled with the Circus quite often the old woman wasn't really a part of it. Apparently she'd been in some sort of trouble with a former colleague last year; Aerie regretted not having been there to help. Luckily a group of adventurers had stumbled into her tent just in time to save her.

"Now, Fooling," Charlie said, twirling the little stick he carried as he walked along. "You see Aerie, society always needs an outsider to point out its flaws. Someone whose status allows him to belittle and mock both King and Pauper... and that is what a Fool does. No one ever punishes a Fool for speaking out of turn because, clearly, he's just a fool, an old beggar, a tramp... "

"Gosh," Aerie grinned, "I-I had no idea it was so complex."

"Indeed. Any decent Fool goes to great lengths to keep themselves separate from the rest of society. When the great Fool Fabian thought he was getting too friendly with people, he took to smearing himself with Pig's urine in order to repel them. The Even Greater Fool, Francine, went so far as to get herself killed by a falling turtle when she was twenty six, thus ensuring she never became a part of the establishment."

"Y-you're quite friendly with me, though."

"Well, you may not be a Fool. But you are an outsider, and as such you sometimes see truths that others miss."

"If you say so, sir," Aerie blushed and hid her head. "But, I-I always thought it was just slapstick."

"Oh, heavens no. For example, my routine where I 'accidently' trip and throw a custard pie in the Emperor's face? It's a statement about there being no Divine Right of Kings; they're as mortal and prone to bad luck as the rest of us."

"Golly... I-I guess I should watch these things more closely."

"Indeed you should," he turned and glared at her, "slapstick, indeed." He closed his eyes, shaking his head. He should, perhaps, have stopped walking as well, because he then walked into the back of a cart. One of the chores Aerie had done that morning was to clean out all the animal cages, shovelling most of the crap onto this very cart; at some point in the day, someone would take it off to be dumped somewhere, or sell it to local farms. Aerie could attest to the fact that elephants produced a lot of fertilizer, so the Circus must have made a decent amount of coin from the stuff. Not today though; today the cart got flipped up, dumping its contents all over Charlie as he fell in. Of course, Aerie immediately made sure he was okay.

"Um... w-was that a statement as well?" She smiled. Apart from the fact that he likely would smell pretty bad for a while, he seemed fine.

"Yes," he spat then nodded. "It was a statement that you should always watch where you're going."

Charlie went to get cleaned up as best as he could, leaving Aerie to find Bentha on her own. But she had to go somewhere else first; someone stopped and told her to bring some refreshments to some of the people rehearsing. Gone was any of the confidence she might have had talking to Charlie. She bowed her head, said 'yes sir' and obediently took the bucket. Every day in the Circus people were in a hurry; there was constant pressure to get the next show ready. Anyone caught not doing enough work would soon find themselves booted, left in a ditch by the side of a road somewhere... it didn't matter if your 'Uncle' was the star attraction.

And so Aerie padded her way through the growing crowd. The noblemen and women with their powdered faces and big hats; all a bit too extravagant for her tastes. And mingling with them were the peasants, who had saved up all year in order to treat their families to a day out; Aerie liked seeing families together at least, even though she'd had a lot of first hand experience of how cruel children could be. And of course there were many merchants and a few guards stood at their posts. Other than stand there looking pretty, she wasn't sure if they ever actually did anything. She'd certainly never seen them to anything so bold as to actually uphold the law just a little bit. Slavery had been illegal in Amn for a long time, so she'd been told... and yet it had been allowed to go on right in front of the people whose job it was to prevent it? How could that be? She didn't understand, but she wanted to. Really wanted to... but the explanation had better be good. But it would have to wait since well, survival came first.

She went into the big tent carrying her pail, passing some of the acrobats and dancers as they did their exercises. Sometimes, on the rare occasion when she'd actually been allowed a break, she would come in here and sit in the shadows at the very back of the tent and watch them as they danced and stretched. And sometimes she joined in... well, she did what they were doing, anyway. Like standing on one foot with the other one above her head. No one ever saw her doing it, but she could hold that pose almost as long as the very best of the professionals here.

The dancing girls fascinated Aerie; she supposed because they had come to her to be the best representation of the illusion the Circus created. The people who came here to see them perform saw a group of very pretty, smiling, glamorous girls. But, were human eyes as sharp as the elf's, they might have noticed that these 'pretty girls' were in fact very athletic women covered in taut muscles and bruises from when they'd hurt themselves training, or from when one of the men here had succumbed to a combination of stress from the constant pressure to prepare the show night after night, and too much to drink. More often though, it wasn't those performers who suffered because of the later. The Circus kept with it a number of far easier, more vulnerable targets for someone looking to blow off some steam.

There was some commotion around the cages when Aerie arrived with the water. They were trying to get the Tigers to trot around a little obstacle course; up ramps, through loops and all that. Except the loops would be on fire when they actually did it in front of the crowd. But, one of the younger Tigers was refusing to come out of its pen; it cowered at the back while the men did all they could to entice it out. One of the men foolishly tried to reach inside and grab it, getting his arm swiped and slashed for the effort. Clearly, the man was now furious. Aerie kept handing out scooped water to people, trying not to watch since she knew what would happen next.

One of the men picked up a plank; others poked the animal with sticks until its head emerged, and then the man brought the plank down, breaking it in two over the creatures cranium. The animal collapsed and wailed.

Aerie couldn't watch. Tears were welling up; she hurried up, making sure everyone had taken a drink and then walked away as fast as she could. And then she ran. She ran out of the end and across The Promenade, collapsing by one of the archways leading in. This was the edge of the known world to her. Anything beyond that arch was an unknown, with equal potential to be wondrous and terrifying... she had caught glimpses of it as the Circus packed up his wagons and moved from place to place. She heard people talk and tell stories... but some day, some day she wanted to really see and experience it for herself. Maybe today? It would be so easy... just keep walking and don't look up...

"And where would you go?" And elderly voice said. Aerie wiped the tears from her face and turned around to face the old witch, Bentha, wearing her hood and her cloak tightly wrapped around herself ready to set off onto the road.

"A-anywhere is better than here," Aerie answered bitterly.

"Do you really think so? The world is a big place, Aerie... bigger than you've ever imagined. How will you survive?"

"I..." Aerie felt a tingle, and looked at her hand. It had a faint blue glow, and as she bent her fingers there were a few small sparks. She guessed when she'd ran from the tent wishing there was more she could do somehow caused the start of a spell...

"Magical power is a wondrous thing. But do you know how it will help find food or water, or a place to sleep?"

"I... I-I could have stopped them, at least..."

"Perhaps. But then you would have exposed yourself to the Cowled Wizards and it would be hard to help anything or anyone else from the place they would take you. Even if they ignored you, people here would begin to fear you. They know that all the creatures they so readily use and abuse here only accept their mastery so long as they have no inkling of their own strength. You would be forced to leave and so, again, how would you survive?"

"I..." Aerie searched desperately for answer; she just wanted so much to escape. "C-can't I go with you? I-I'm sure Uncle Quayle wouldn't..."

"Quayle is a good man," Bentha shook her head, "not so good at listening though. He has fallen for the illusion of this place. Besides, you would soon grow tired of the kind of life I lead. Not a lot of excitement, really."

"So... t-that's it, then?" Aerie slumped. "I've... I've got to just stay here and... j-just watch the world as it happens? What's the point in me having and learning all this magic i-if I can't use it to do any good for anyone?"

"Just be patient, Aerie. You have skill with magic, like few others... but not only that, the Gods have granted you the gift of divine power. For most Priests, it takes years of praying and making sacrifices to be granted that... I guess the Gods figured you'd already sacrificed enough. In any case, I doubt they would have bestowed it upon you if they wanted you to clean muck up for the rest of your life. No... they have a plan for you. A destiny... and I feel that very soon, it will start to be revealed. So be patient."

"If you say so," Aerie sighed, "I-I suppose I've waited more than twenty years already. I can wait a little more."

"I want you to have this," Bentha held out a cloth with something about an arm's length wrapped inside. As Aerie took it and pulled pack the cloth her blues eyes widened in astonishment at the thing aside reflecting the suns light brightly; a glass sword.

"This... th-this is an Avariel sword," Aerie noted. Of course, it wasn't actually glass; it just looked like it. Glass would a terrible thing to make a weapon out of. No, this material was as strong and as flexible as steel but only a fraction of the weight, so even someone as little as Aerie could swing it all day without getting too tired. "Where did you find it?"

"A lot of history in the world. A lot of things that get misplaced... you'll find that many of them turn up in the markets in Amn."

"But... w-why are you giving me a weapon?"

"Don't know. Just a feeling that you might be needing one soon. The weapon changes shape however you wish it... soon as you get a chance, you should practice with different forms to find out which suits you best."

"I... thank you," the elf bowed.

"Take care, Aerie," Bentha bowed also, and then proceeded to walk slowly through the arch. "Oh... I had another vision," she called back as she was disappearing, "if you ever see a man with blue hair... run!"

"Um... r-run to the man with blue hair? Got it," Aerie said, although Bentha was well out of earshot by now.

She supposed she had to get this thing back to her caravan somehow... without anyone seeing it. It only took her a moment to find that as well as changing shape, she could also change its size making it much smaller and easier to conceal about her person. Talking to Bentha had made her feel a bit better, but she still took a moment to gaze up at the sky and watch the seabirds flying inland... watching, waiting, longing.

There were a lot of former slaves in the circus. Most of time they didn't really want to talk about what their experiences had been like, which she understood and respected, but over the years she had pieced together the stories from most of them about the torture and abuse they underwent. Most of them shared this in common; that when you were suffering you just had to try to transplant yourself, in your mind, to some better time or place. Although you couldn't stop the physical pain, you could in that way at least minimise the psychological damage. And so it was that Aerie often found herself gazing up to the sky and thinking back to the life she'd once had up there... although, more and more she wondered if that had all just been a dream. She had only the scars on her back to prove otherwise.

Birds flying inland... she tried to shake herself back into reality. That must mean there was a storm coming... but it seemed to arrive much sooner than she would have expected. Her heart jumped at the sound of a huge crack of thunder. But there were as yet no clouds. Then, way on the other side of The Promenade, she could see a cloud of dust close to the ground. People running, shouting, screaming... an explosion?

She made her way across; she expected most of the people in the Circus will have stopped what they were doing after that. In the end the show would go on, of course... but she saw that there were children and people who had been injured in blast, hit by debris, crying and calling out for help. In an instant she forgot about everything she had lost, about all the unhappiness here; for a while at least her instincts took over and she immediately ran to help them.

* * *

Imoen was in her happy place... happy place, happy place, happy place... there were green fields, blue skies, little bunny rabbits running around holding baskets... everything was good, everything was good, everything was... gods, she hurt so much...

Finally, the beam went off and her body, as much it could in this small cage, slumped to the ground. Her eyes remained wide open, her mouth opened and closed like that of a fish pulled out of water onto dry hand and was trying desperately to breathe.

"Hmmm... disappointing," the white face said at last.

Imoen couldn't respond... could barely think. Her brain hurt.

"Do you even realise your potential?" He said. She didn't understand; potential for what? Why didn't he just tell her what the hell he wanted? "Never mind. Together, we shall find a way to unlock your true power."

It was at this point that the ceiling above them shook; Imoen could hear chains all around, rattling violently. She heard another voice, somehow even more monotonous and without emotion than that of white face.

"Intruders have entered the complex, master," it said.

"They act sooner than we had anticipated," White face answered. "No matter... they will only prove a slight delay."

Then Imoen heard footsteps, receding. What was going on? Were they just going to leave her here like this? She started to sob, desperate to know why all this was happening. Then there was a second, even greater explosion... so great that the cage she was in shook from its base, tumbling to the ground.

She remained inside for a moment, staring at the hole that had suddenly appeared in front of her; the cage door had opened. But... no, no it was a trick. He was always tricking her... he wanted her to see how pointless it was to even think about escaping. Well, she wasn't falling for it. She was just going to stay right here and wait for them to come back... and she would have done, if there were not a little voice inside that was still Immy that said:

'You've got a chance, bufflehead, now get going!'

She supposed she should try at least; it was better than just sitting around waiting for death. Okay, so... she managed to climb out of the cage. Now what? Which way was she supposed to go... or not supposed to go, rather. Brain was still hurting too much to make decisions... so find someone else to make decisions for her...

She remembered now; Jaheira, Minsc and, and... yes, the others as well. They were all around here somewhere. If it he'd been doing the same things to them... much as she wanted to just run and run, she had to get them out as well.

Try to remember... he'd shown around this place before. Shown her some of the other little projects he'd been working on, each more horrible than the last. But Jaheira; she remembered her own cage had been up there, and when he took her out they'd turned right... and then right again when they reached the wall.

"Imoen!" The tawny haired druid called. Thank the Gods she hadn't been very far. She must have been able to hear white face talking to Imoen.

"Jaheira?" The redhead said, relieved beyond belief. "A-are you okay?"

"No time for chit-chat, child. Hurry and pick the lock of this door before our captor returns."

"Okay... I do hate seeing you cooped up like that," Imoen said, and then waited. And waited.

"What are you waiting for girl?" Jaheira snapped impatiently.

"Well... when you asked me to pick the lock I assumed you meant you had something for me to pick the lock with. Like a hairpin or something."

"What? No... I assumed you always had all that with you."

"He confiscated it, obviously," Immy rolled her eyes, "He's an evil man, Jaheira... but he sure ain't stupid."

"Fine. You see that door behind you?" Jaheira nodded. "It is where the jailer usually resides. I suspect that he too is currently occupied with whoever these mysterious invaders are. Hopefully he will have left some keys."

"Invaders?"

"Explosions... 'intruders entering the complex'. For heaven's sake, pay attention to what is going on around you girl."

"You know... I-I could just leave you there," Imoen pointed. Jaheira answered by narrowing her eyes and using them to send the message that 'no... you really couldn't'. "Fine," Imoen relented. "I'll be back. Just wait here, okay?" Imoen winced; pretty stupid thing to say to a woman behind bars.

"I assure you I am not going anywhere."

Jaheira was hard to deal with sometimes, but at least she was experienced and keeping her wits; those were the things Imoen most needed right now. She ran into the jailers room and suddenly froze... should have peeked inside first and taken note of the great big golem.

But it was even more still than her, although it must have seen her. Whatever instructions it had, they weren't to put prisoners back in their cages. Maybe it had been told not to let them escape, but since it hadn't seen Imoen escape it had no responsibility to do anything now that she was out. Or maybe it was guarding this room... Imoen looked through the chests very, very carefully, always keeping one eye on the hulking thing. When she found a set of keys and picked them up, it still did nothing.

"That's good... that's very good," she muttered as she backed towards the door, "stay like that, please." Not even a nod. She got away with the keys and it didn't seem to care. Moments later, she had Jaheira freed.

"That is a relief, and about time too," the half-elf grumbled in her usual cheery, non-patronising and completely not sarcastic way.

"Have you been able to learn anything from our captor?"

"Not really," Imoen said. "He talks a lot, but never really says anything, yknow? I think he just likes hearing his own voice."

"He never asked you anything?"

"No," the red head started rubbing her aching temples, "b-but... he showed me things. He made me watch as he..." knives... she remembered lots of knives. He hadn't cut her at all, but he'd kept her eyes open as he... suddenly Imoen's cheeks swelled. Fortunately she hadn't ate enough recently to actually be sick on Jaheira. The druid quickly grabbed the young woman's shoulders, trying to keep her steady. "I'm sorry... my head really hurts, like there's a little dagger inside. I can't remember everything... I don't know... maybe I'm trying not to remember."

"Free Minsc... I will try to find us some weapons."

"Where's," there was a sudden little explosion in Imoen's brain. "Owww... w-where is Khalid?"

"I do not know," Jaheira said, trying to sound not too concerned although her eyes betrayed something different. "He has not been held with the rest of us... But he is resourceful, and had the same training as I. I am sure he will be sitting tight, waiting to be rescued or deep into his own escape. We will watch for him as we search for an exit. He will be fine."  
Imoen nodded as Jaheira went in search of arms and armour... although it wasn't really that affirmative. But no... Jaheira was right. She was always right. Well, obviously not always; she was only a mortal after all. But probably about nine times out of ten... or maybe eight... or actually, seven times out of ten, she was right. Still, for any person that was a pretty good ratio of rightness to wrongness. Anyway... Minsc...

His cage was only a few metres away from Jaheira's, the bald warrior fast asleep inside despite the explosions and clamour of battle from above. Like a seven foot baby.

"Hey... wake up you," she said, gently nudging him with her foot. The redhead was reluctant to make much noise... the Golems may not be a threat, but she dimly recalled that there were other living things down here. "Wake up!" She repeated, a little louder and more urgently. He remained snoring away. "Minsc!" She clapped her hands together next to his ear and started to shove his shoulder... still nothing.

Actually there was some movement, just not from Minsc. Something small, crawling in the shadow just behind him. Imoen, very cautiously, leant over the warrior... then she jumped backwards about ten feet as the creature leapt onto Minsc's shoulder. It was only when Imoen took her hands away from her face to look that she realised what a foolish mistake she'd made... lucky no one was around to see it.

"Boo?" She grinned nervously, body still trembling. The little orange fur ball stood on his hind legs twitching his whiskers. "You stupid hammy hamster... you almost scared the life out of me."

"Squeak?" The hamster said. It was the tiniest sound, barely audible at all. But suddenly Minsc was wide awake, leaping to his feet and screaming wildly. The cage shook violently as he tugged and pushed at the bars, almost toppling it over. Their captor had obviously been aware of the risk, and Minsc's cage was fixed far more securely than the others were.

"AHHH!" The mighty warrior from Rasheman shouted. "Minsc shall be free! These bonds will not hold my wrath! Butts will be liberally kicked in good measure!" Imoen's headache just got ten times worse.  
"I know you're angry Minsc," she said, covering her ears, "but you need to calm down. I'm here to release you, and then we can all get out of here."

"My anger is under complete control! I will control it as I rip limb from limb, I will control it as I pound head after head, and I will control..." suddenly the shouting became too much even for the mighty Minsc to keep up. He slumped forwards, his huge chest heaving as beads of sweat and, Imoen thought, some tears rolled across his skin. "No control... no mercy," he said quietly, "I will avenge... Dynaheir..."

"Dynaheir?" Imoen repeated, her jaw agape. She... she had a nasty suspicion, but asked anyway; "Where is she?"  
"She... she is dead. My charge and friend... she is dead and I am a failure as her guard! Killed as I watched... but I will redeem myself!"

"That's horrible, Minsc. I am so sorry."

Imoen... well, she lied. She really didn't feel that sorry. She knew it was terrible; Dynaheir had been a good friend to her and to everyone. But right now the danger to herself seemed much more important than mourning. She didn't know if that was incredibly selfish or if it was just human... maybe when she was free and had time to recover her grief would catch up with her. Now, she couldn't force herself to feel something she didn't. Besides, she'd seen so much death recently.

"I won't cry for the dead! I won't!" Minsc declared, sniffing. "Okay, maybe a little. But I will staunch the flow of tears with righteous fury! Lullaby and goodnight, evil! Minsc will make you pay!"

"Stand back a bit... let me get this thing open..." Just a moment later and Minsc was free, flexing and warming up his enormous muscles for the inevitable butt kicking.

"Now, little Imoen, we can resume our adventures together," he said, flexing and warming up his enormous muscles for the inevitable butt kicking. "There are friends to avenge and villains to smack about the face and neck! Right Boo?" The hamster squeaked affirmatively. Looking at Minsc's tanned and bare skin, a thought occurred to Imoen.

"Um... how were you able to hide Boo from our captors?" She asked, noting that he was only wearing trousers. And they didn't even have pockets.

"A question better left to aged sages. Boo is quick and evasive and there is ever so much of Minsc to search... there is no hope of getting us apart!"

"Ewww... you know what? I don't actually want to think about that..."

"Then shall we go?" The warrior shrugged. "The butts of evil await my boot print!"

"There is one thing, Minsc," Imoen whispered, her head ringing again. "We're about to embark on an escape attempt, so we need to be as quiet as possible."

"Minsc understands," he answered, leaning conspiratorially over her. "I will be stealthy... like the crab..."

"Um... crab?"

"The crab makes not a sound... and when unsuspecting evil dost lay its dirty feet too close, we snip off its toes!"

"Right. Crab. Exactly."

Jaheira returned moments later, bearing gifts. She had found a cache of armour and weapons not too far away. There had been spears and halberds, two handed swords and flails... but she had left all of them. Those weapons were meant for the battlefield, not for fighting up close in narrow corridors. Instead she picked out a couple of short swords and daggers, a heavy mace for Minsc and a couple of small crossbows. Equipped as best as was possible right now, they set about finding the exit.

They of course had no idea in which direction or how far it was. Jaheira led the way, Imoen noting that she just chose one wall and stuck to it. That was how you found your way out of a maze. Imoen wondered about her other missing companions; Khalid, and... and Eldoth. She had no recollection of seeing him anywhere down here. But who cared; if they found him, they found him. If not, oh well. Although she wouldn't to find that slimey git had been the one who had sold them all out.

Jaheira too had a few concerns she was occupied with. She was concerned about Imoen; the girl was clearly finding it hard to concentrate as much as she should and she seemed to be in some sort of pain. All perfectly understandable, of course... but she couldn't control it she might become a liability to the rest of them. She would rather Minsc not have to carry her out of here. As if that wasn't worrying enough for her, Jaheira then looked back at Minsc. She of course knew what had happened to Dynaheir... but for any of them to honour the memory of their fallen comrade they all had to get out alive. What was of immediate concern was the way Minsc was walking; he had his back flat against the wall, would look earnestly from side to side and then take a big step sideways before repeating the process.

"What is he doing?" She asked Imoen.

"He's being stealthy," the red head answered as if it ought to have been obvious. "Like a crab."

"Of course," the druid sighed, shaking her head. "Soon I will be too old for all this."

"What are you talking about? You're not old at all... and I-I'm glad you're here," the red head smiled. A little bit forced but at least it was well intended. "The way you're calm and seem to know what you're doing... I think if I was alone down here I'd be running around clucking like a chicken by now."

"Do not start getting sentimental, child," the druid said, going a little red.

"Sheez... don't take compliments very well, do ya?"

"We have to concentrate on the task at hand. This is no time for hugs and kisses and sharing our feelings," Jaheira said as if it were a strange alien word.

"Well, whatever you say, I'm still glad. Maybe that's why I'm glad... you can always stay so focused on what needs to be done."

"A task I am far better at when you do not keep distracting me from it."

"Fair enough... I'll hang back. Just... just a little bit, anyway."

"Thank you," Jaheira said a little sarcastically. Then she turned away to concentrate on where they should be heading next; Imoen didn't see the sneaky little smile.

Top of all Jaheira's concerns right now was of course her husband, Khalid. So far there was no sign of any other prisoners. If they didn't come across him before finding an exit, then she would make sure Imoen and Minsc got to safety before returning and performing a more thorough search on her own. Imoen was her top priority; it was her mission as a Harper, and more importantly her promise to an old friend that she would take care of the girl. Khalid understood. He knew his duty.

Of course, she had grown fond of Imoen too. The girl's pranks, frankly terrible manners and tendency to act a fool in front of everyone even though in Candlekeep she'd been given access to the best education and the largest library of knowledge on the whole surface of Faerun; all those things about her were infuriating. But beneath it all, Jaheira had come to recognise a very sweet, pure hearted girl. Jaheira of course would never tell Imoen she thought she was sweet; hopefully it came across in the way she was constantly nagging her to do things.

There had been so little time to prepare her for everything that lay ahead. It wasn't supposed to be Imoen at all who would carry the burden of destiny. Two infants had been saved from becoming sacrifices to their dead father, Bhaal, the God of murder, a boy and a girl. The one within whom Bhaal's taint resided the most was to be groomed for fulfilling his destiny and one day claiming his father's place alongside the other divinities of Faerun. The weaker of the two, Imoen, was to remain hidden. There was so little of Bhaal's essence in her that she may well have led a perfectly normal life without ever having any inkling of what was inside her. But it was not to be.

Imoen had been too young when it happened to remember it, by there had been a fire within Candlekeep. Inside the library itself it was impossible to create even a spark, but elsewhere in the fortress all the usual laws of nature still applied. No one was ever sure how it had started; perhaps it was a dire warning from the universe itself that it controlled fate, not people. In any case, Imoen's brother had perished in the flames.

Now the hopes of Gorion and of all the good people in the realms rested solely on the shoulders of an annoying red haired girl whose favourite past times included making lists of animal names that sounded like parts of the body and sneaking into people's rooms at night and moving all their underwear around.

Jaheira could only pray that the Gods and nature would give her all the help she could get.


	3. Ch 2: Breakout

**Out Of The Shadows**

**Chapter Two:**

**Breakout**

Drip... drip... drip... it was all Imoen could hear, each one echoing in her pretty little skull like the sound of thunder. She felt hot, her stomach was grumbling for food and the pressure in head seemed like it could explode at any which wouldn't be at all good for Minsc who was standing next to her. She knew she wasn't sock; she didn't know why she felt this way. Trying to remember only caused the pain to swell up more... it was already throbbing. It had a steady beat like that of a drum. Every time she thought it might be fading out it just came back even louder. All in all, this was turning out to be one of the worst days of her life. Yes, even worse than the time she was woken in the middle of the night and serenaded by Garrick. That was embarrassing for all involved, but at least the boy could hold a tune.

Nevertheless, she was trying to concentrate. It wasn't easy, since she was wincing every few seconds to try and force to pain back. It may have been because she had noticed her grimaces, and at one point Imoen was banging her head against the wall in the hope that a little pain would somehow distract her from the even worse pain she was already feeling, that Jaheira had decided to leave Imoen and Minsc in a small room while she scouted the corridor ahead.

"I fear 'little Imoen' may be suffering from sort of... fatigue," The half-elven druid had said quietly to Minsc while the redhead became familiar with the brick work down here. "Keep a close on her until I return," and then she'd disappeared into the gloom up ahead. Did she think Imoen hadn't heard? The redhead may not have had big pointy elven ears, but her ears worked perfectly especially now that every sound seemed like an earthquake.

Imoen went along, if only because she couldn't face an argument right now. Still, it didn't seem right to just sit here. She didn't know what their captor wanted, but it was pretty obvious that it had something to do with her. Well... not her, really, but what was inside her. If she could have ripped it out and given it to him, she would have done so gladly. Then no one would have had to die. But she couldn't do that. She couldn't really do anything other than go along and hope that somehow all these things worked out for the best. Hadn't done so far, but... well, she could at least make herself useful by going through all the stuff that was in this room.

There was a desk a few boxes; they might contain some important items or information. So far as they'd wound their way through the damp, dank corridors they'd come across a number of exotic machinery connected to jars filled with green bile and, Imoen thought, some sort of creatures. Or bits of creatures anyway... she thought she'd seen something that looked a disembodied mouth. It was hard for her to see in the low light and anyway their main concern was getting out of here. They needed food, water and a place where they could actually lie down and get some proper rest. Had she mentioned that her back was sore as well?

She knew she couldn't make sense of the machines. She knew she wasn't really dumb; she could do really big sums in her head and perfectly memorise several pages of text after one read. Those were skills, and useful ones for practicing magic which mostly just involved remembering and then repeating complicated series of words and gestures. But she was wise enough to know that despite being able to do all that, she wasn't exactly a genius. Now, Dynaheir on the other hand, she would have been to look at all the machines and devices here and then figure out how all the seemingly disparate pieces fitted together and it would have told them at least something about their captor... poor Dynaheir...

"Halibut," Minsc leant over and whispered to her suddenly, although even his whispers had a way of causing the walls to tremble.

"Er... what?" Imoen blinked, peering up from the desk and trying to focus on his keen face.

"Ha-li-_butt_," he repeated slowly, "it is an animal with a part of a body in its name."

"I... see," Imoen said, although it was a few more seconds before she actually remembered what this was about. "Minsc... we started playing that game three months ago..."

"And Minsc has just thought of one!" He said, standing and looking unjustifiably proud of himself.

"Oh-kay," Imoen wondered, had he just thought of it or had he seen her looking down and thought this would cheer her up? Perhaps Minsc had a sort of child-like, innocent wisdom that he wasn't given enough credit for... but, looking at him she was pretty sure he had actually just thought of it. "Fine, my go. How about coc..." but she was cut short, her eyes darting into the gloom Jaheira had vanished into from which came a horrid shrieking and wailing, weapons being drawn and then splashing and struggling... and then silence.

Imoen stood and moved away from the desk, her eyes trembling as she stared into the inky darkness.

"Jah... Jaheira?" The girl called out plaintively. Then some slimy, dripping, dripping foul smelling creature suddenly lunged out of the shadows. Imoen screeched and jumped back, her heart almost leaping through her throat, but then... it was just Jaheira, covered in sludge.

"That... that wasn't funny Jae!" Imoen protested, her face turning red as she noted the little smile appearing on the corner of the druid's lips.

"Come now, child," the tawny haired elder woman said, "it is hardly endearing to people to always give but never be able to take."

"I'm not a child, I'm twenty years old, and you almost gave me a heart attack! I... I was afraid something had happened to you," the redhead sighed, her anger quickly subsiding. "I'm sorry, I just... I'm a bag of nerves as it is. This whole place is creepy, and... I... I'm scared, Jae..."

"Good. I would be more worried if you were not," Jaheira said, picking an appendage of her shoulder and handing it to Imoen. It was a pink tentacle... nice. "We do not know where we are or where we are going or what we might find when we get. Courage, child, is not as many believe the absence of fear, but being able to control it. Use the energy it gives you to keep alert and do what you must to survive. So long as you do not panic, you will make it out in one piece, I promise. We all will."

"Just please tell me you've found the way out."

"Not yet. But I have at least discovered why this place smells like a sewer."

"Why's that?"

"Because it is a sewer. And one frequently in use."

"So we're still in the city?"

"Not Baldur's Gate," Jaheira shook her head. She wiped off a bit of the slime with the end of her finger and she touched it with her tongue. "Too spicy," she said, licking her lips. "No... this is further south. Amn or Tethyr."

"That is one of the most disgusting things I have ever seen you do," Imoen said, going from red to ever-so-slightly green. She had seen Jaheira do a lot of disgusting things, like eating bear pooh. Yes, it turned out that bears did indeed shit in the woods but then druids and rangers came along and consumed all the evidence. "What... what about Khalid. Is there any sign?"

"No," Jaheira shook her head, looking worried for a second. "Perhaps on another level. On a positive note, I have seen little sign of our captors either. They must all be engaged in the battle above. So let us seize the initiative and not dally here any longer."

"Yup... I'm all for not dallying. Let's go."

Imoen hadn't found much in the desk; a few notes and designs and pages from what could have been a diary. Obviously, there was no time to read them all properly and maybe once she'd rested and her mind was fresh and no longer plagued by this wretched headache she'd be able to make more sense of the stuff, or at least find someone who could. It was written in elven anyway, and she wasn't as fluent as she could be. It seemed a little strange, since there was no sign of any elves living down here... but maybe that was the idea, and it was considered the language now for all mages and practitioners of the art.

And so they kept going, Jaheira taking the lead. The half-elf was the only one of them who could see more than a few feet ahead in all this gloom. Minsc took the rear, meaning Imoen was somewhat protected in the middle although that didn't really make her feel much better. Safer yes, but not better. She almost wished they were attacked by something because as they marched onwards, she was left only with the throbbing in her head and her thoughts. Minsc may not have been smart in a conventional, but he was strong and loyal and one hell of a fighter, as was Jaheira who was undoubtedly the most experienced of them as well. But despite all her pranks and running away quite often, Imoen was struggling now to remember what it was she actually ever did to help anyone. It seemed like they would have had a much easier time getting out if they weren't guarding her... well, apart from the fact that if it wasn't for her good fortune they would probably all still be stuck in their cages. But Gorion, Winthrop and now Dynaheir had all died and... what for? Tenya was right, wasn't she; Imoen was weak, lacked ambition, and always just a follower. She was utterly useless, wasn't she? Not worth this.

Jaheira raised a hand urging complete silence from all of them. The druid's half-elven senses had detected the guards coming a couple of minutes beforehand; Imoen only that moment heard the clang of armoured feet on stone. The trio ducked into a room, another laboratory, and took shelter behind some of the machinery. Two figures stopped by the door and one peered inside. He was a stocky Dwarven figure with the typical long white beard and hammer that seemed far too big for a body his size; dwarves sure didn't make their weapons small. You'd almost think they were overcompensating. But unlike most Dwarves they had seen before, this one had skin that was the colour of coal. And bright red eyes... infravision! It was fortunate that the machinery and other apparatus in this room gave off heat of its own, obscuring the trio from even that sense. He glanced quickly around the room and then, satisfied, continued down the corridor with his partner.

"They are heading toward the cells," Jaheira said, breathing out.

"Duergar," Imoen recalled, "Deep dwarves... I remember reading about them in Candlekeep. They're kind of evil, so I guess it's no surprise they'd be working for him. He probably... probably needs them for the knives..." There was another painful pang as Imoen thought.

"Knives?" Jaheira said, arching her eyebrow.

"Lots and lots of knives..." the redhead started to remember. The white face had wanted to show her something... but all she remembered was seeing him cutting. And blood... so much blood... not hers though. What was it? She was trying to remember... it seemed important, somehow, but she just couldn't force the barrier to open for her...

"Evil or not, they will soon know of our escape. We must hurry."

A motion Imoen was whole heartedly in favour of. She stood in such a hurry that she knocked something that had been slumped in the corner behind her... or someone. Imoen froze and slowly felt behind her... there was a hand there. Male, dressed in leather...

"J-J-Jae..." Imoen's lips trembled weakly. Imoen felt the body suddenly slump forward, pushing her away as the druid turned. The redhead fell back on her behind as its head bounced off the machinery and the corpse came to rest on its side just in front of the girl.

He can't have been dead that long, since he was still warm. In life he had been a young man, probably not much older than Imoen. In death he stared right at her, and she stared back into his unblinking eyes like little marbles... she had seen plenty of bodies before. But this was the first time she had noticed that with the wide, unblinking eyes and soft pale skin death was actually somewhat... pretty. Even the beating in her head getting louder didn't break the entrancement. Actually, that was getting to be quite relaxing now. Thud, thud, then pause, thud again... like a heartbeat.

"One of the intruders, perhaps," Jaheira examined the corpse. "No sign of injury... probably killed by magic. No markings to show his affiliation or any other form of identification... looks like a rogue.

That was good, Imoen thought. It was a corpse. A pretty corpse, maybe, but giving the corpse a name would remind her that it was once a person and not a lifeless thing... no, what was thinking? How could she have had that thought... how could death ever be pretty? It was this place... this horrid, dark, damp, smelly place. It was screwing with her, making her think thoughts that weren't her own. She had to get out... she had to get out right now...

"Imoen?" Jaheira suddenly appeared beside the girl. The redhead turned her head slowly.

"Death isn't pretty," Imoen said, her own eyes wide and unblinking.

"No," Jaheira kindly agreed, despite it being a very strange thing to say all of a sudden.

"Good... so, why are we standing around still? C'mon peeps... somewhere out there is a nice soft bed and roast chicken dinner all for us. But I'm definitely having the legs. You guys can have all the stuffing though. Don't like stuffing."

Suffice to say, those events probably did little to assuage Jaheira's fears of Imoen's battle fatigue. But they all had no choice but to keep going, find Khalid and escape. They could worry about their injuries, physical or otherwise, once they were all safe. Well, there was one other choice; they could just wait around until they joined the rogue in the hereafter but strangely no one brought that up as an option.

After a while Imoen was becoming concerned that they might be going around in circles; every damn corridor looked the same. But no; she had to trust that Jaheira knew what she was doing and would find a way out of here. Eventually the landscape did start to change; instead of dull, grey bricks and stone they found themselves in what looked like a natural. With trees growing inside it.

"That's... not right, is it?" Imoen said to Jaheira. "I mean, I'm not as in touch with nature as you are Jae, but I'm sure I've never heard of trees growing underground before. It can't happen."

"No," the druid nodded.

"Another one of his experiments, I suppose. Maybe he's going to sell them to the Dark Elves... they might be less grumpy if they could eat fruit every now and then. But... no, he wouldn't be trying to do anything good for anyone. Must be another reason."

"Imoen?"

"Yeah?"

"Do shut up. Your babbling is distracting me."

"Well, since you asked so nicely..."

"Can you not feel it?" Jaheira said, ignoring the redhead and putting her hand gently against the bark.

"I am starting to feel that it was mistake to let you out, but otherwise..."

"These are not ordinary trees."

"I already said that, didn't I? Do you ever listen to a word I say?"

"I try to every so often, but it is never a very pleasant experience. Now shut up and watch..." Jaheira walked out to the centre of the cavern, between the three trees. "Fellow servants of nature, you have nothing to fear from us. I know creatures such as you could not be serving our captor, at least not willingly. We are prisoners too, only seeking a way to escape."

"Is she talking to trees?" Imoen said out of the side of her mouth to Minsc. "I thought I was going mad down here..."

But, somewhat annoyingly, it turned out Jaheira wasn't going mad just yet.

"Help us!" A distressed female voice said; Imoen looked around but at first couldn't see where it was coming. Then they stepped out of the trees, although there was opening for them to have done so. Spirits... dryads. Imoen once read about such creatures, back when she used to read a lot. Candlekeep was a library after all and there wasn't much else to do. They were... almost too perfect, too beautiful. That actually made them quite hard to look at, at least for Imoen. Minsc had no such difficulty.

"Pretty ladies!" He grinned widely. Imoen wondered briefly why it was she'd never seen a male nymph or dryad... although she supposed technically they didn't really have a gender. She did remember some biologist speculating that female was the default for creatures, and male was some freaky mutation. That made sense; every man she'd ever met was a freak of some kind. For now though, there were three dryads each wearing just enough leafy clothing to cover her modesty and no more. One was blonde, one had red hair and one dark... almost the full spectrum of hair, which was convenient since in the absence of names it provided a way to identify each one as they spoke.

"We are his possessions," the blonde dryad said sadly.

"His servants," the dark haired one added.

"His... his concubines," said the one with red hair.

"By him I assume you mean the white face," Imoen snorted derisively.

"Wh-white face?" The blonde responded with an uncertain look.

"Tall man... wears a lot of leather. All I could see from my cage was his white face."

"Ah, yes... you mean Irenicus. Yes, he is the one who has imprisoned us here as well."

"Irenicus," Imoen repeated. It was the first thing they had learned about their captor, the man who had tortured her and killed her friend and mentor; his name. It wasn't much but it was a start at least. But frankly she wasn't sure how much else she wanted to know; if she never saw him or heard that name again, well, that would be fine. She wanted to be as far away from him and his experiments and his knives as she could... even thinking about him she shivered. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so afraid of a person, if you could call him that. There was just something about him that just wasn't right... he derived no pleasure from torturing his victims, she now recalled. To him people were just things to be taken apart and studied like some Gnomish invention. He was cold... the coldest man she had ever met. She had begged and pleaded with him but it was no use... he had no emotion, much like the Golems that served him. But unlike them, he must be aware of the harm he was doing. He seemed too intelligent not to, he just didn't, or couldn't, care. One of the books in Candlekeep had a word in it for people like that; psychopath. But knowing that didn't make him seem any less inhuman.

"We would like to help you," Jaheira spoke to the dryads, "but we need to find a way out of here first."

"We know the way!" The blonde one cried.

"The only way... through the portals," the redhead nodded.

"We will show you... but you must take us as well," the dark haired beauty said, all of their faces filled with hopeful.

"Sure," Imoen said, "but you do know there's some sort of battle going up there. Any of you gals know how to fight?" She asked, looking somewhat doubtful.

"You won't have to carry us, if that's what you're worried about," the dark haired one said again.

"Well, not exactly us," said the blonde, "you just need to find our acorns."

"Take them to the Fairy Queen in Windspear Hills," the redhead elaborated, "once they are replanted there, we will be free."

"Where are these acorns?" Jaheira asked.

"One of the Duergar, Illyich, has them. We will show you; he is not far. With most of the Dwarves distracted now you should be able to take them from him."

"Minsc will help you ladies," the huge warrior announce, loosening up. "Minsc's feet are tapping, but they are not dancing, oh no. They grow restless; eager to leave their bootprint in the buttocks of evil once more... and to avenge Dynaheir!" Boo punctuated his sentence with an eager squeek.

And that was that. Their minds were all made up... sure they could have searched themselves and hoped to stumble upon and activate one of these portals by accident, but getting the dryads help seemed more expedient. Besides, as infuriatingly pretty as they were, they probably didn't deserve to be trapped down here. Imoen wondered why he kept these... concubines. Was that the only pleasure he had? No... she was sure, for some reason, that pleasure was something he never had. Maybe he was hoping for... what exactly? He was just empty. Yes, empty.

In any case, the tree spirits were true to their word and led them to a small library inside of which were half a dozen of the Duergar. They seemed pretty relaxed, not expecting to be attacked, and that meant the adventurers could surprise them and hopefully it would all be over before any of them knew what was happening.

It was Jaheira of course who peered inside from just behind the door and assessed the tactical situation. She noted another entry way and sent Minsc round the corner to it so they could attack from both sides at once.

"What should I do?" Imoen asked.

"Nothing," Jaheira said, loading her crossbow, "just wait out here."

"But..." Imoen started to protest. She really couldn't just stand here, could she? Jaheira could at least give her a crossbow... she wasn't a very good shot, admittedly... and along with her lockpicks Irenicus had also confiscated her spell book and all her components. But there had to be something she could do to help...

"We do not need you right now," Jaheira said calmly. "Just wait."

Imoen's jaw hung open and she lowered her head like she'd been punched in the gut. "Fine," she whispered miserably. Of course, they were right. They were only outnumbered three to one... why on Toril would they need her? She'd just be in their way.

And so as Imoen just waited, Jaheira stormed the room, with Minsc following her from the other side almost immediately. Two of the Dwarves fell right away, crossbow bolts right in the eyes, but the others far quicker than one could have expected, grabbing their axes and hammers and rushing at the intruders before they had a chance to fire again. Jaheira easily sidestepped the first one to reach, landing a killing blow to the back of his neck as he swept past but the other approached more cautiously. Across the way, Minsc swatted one aside and planted his boot firmly into the face of the other. But Dwarves were tough, and they were back up again in no time.

Imoen peered inside and watched the battle as it progressed... they had lost the element of surprise and it had become a melee. If only she had something... like a wand. But she hadn't... oh that was a bit weird. She was sure that Fire Wand hadn't been on the shelf there a second ago, pr any of the others that were now there. Must have just missed them somehow... but what the hell. She didn't have to stand around and do nothing after all. Disregarding her guardians orders, she sneaked in and took the red and orange stick from the bookshelf. Now she just had to wait until she got a clear shot at one of them.

Minsc had a Dwarf held by the ankle, swinging him around at his comrade like a bearded club whilst laughing maniacally. Eventually he spun around and let the Dwarf go, the momentum sending beardy smashing into the wall and sliding down. But Dwarves really were very tough creatures; he shook it off and looked up... straight at Imoen who was crouching behind the bookcase.

This was her chance; all she had to do was say the word and he would be engulfed in flame. But... she didn't. She froze. She watched him get up and sneer at her, could see the sheer anger and the hatred in his eyes... why? What had she done to him... what had she ever done? She had committed no crime other than just being there. Even when he lifted his hammer and began to charge, she did nothing... not until the last possible second.

"No!" Jaheira suddenly caught sight of the girl pointing the wand shakily at the oncoming Dwarf. "Minsc... down!" She cried, seeing that she was too late to change what was about to happen.

Imoen said the word, and a little orb shot out from the wand. It struck the Dwarf in the chest, lifting him backwards and then... the world suddenly became very bright. And a lot more orange.

For what seemed like a very long time, Imoen sat as she was panting and staring straight ahead. Finally, the heat from the flames that were spreading over all the bookcases caused her to stir and think that maybe it was a good time to pick herself up.

"I told you to wait!" Jaheira hissed angrily. Imoen was glad to see that she was alright, at least. Minsc had also had a narrow escape, although none of his hair had been singed at least. One of the Duergar was still wriggling a bit... but he was probably pretty well baked in that metal armour.

"Er... oops?" Imoen attempted to diffuse the situation with a sheepish, but Jaheira wasn't having in it. She was getting angrier with each step she took.

"Oops?" The druid, her eyes narrowing and bearing down on the redhead, "no child... 'oops' is what you say when you spill a drink or drop an egg. Almost blowing us all up requires more than 'oops'."

"I'm... sorry?" The redhead tried, a little desperate tear welling up in her eye.

"You are sorry? You think that makes everything fine, do you?"

"No," Imoen squeaked pathetically. She didn't know what to say. She knew she'd messed up pretty badly... nothing she could say. Conversely, nothing Jaheira could say could make her feel any worse than she already did... although she had already found that wasn't exactly true. Imoen just hid her head and tried not to talk for a little while at least.

Fortunately the acorns had survived the blast. The Dryads kept their promise and led them to room with a large oval mirror that at their command revealed a portal... a sort of hole in the universe connected to another elsewhere. Apparently it was the only way in or out of this dungeon and so the group stepped through. Before they did, Jaheira asked them about Khalid; they said other than themselves and the Duergar they could sense no one else on that level. The druid seemed confident that they wouldn't lie, at least not to her.

Their sudden appearance on the other side must have startled the man who had been standing in front of the mirror there, apparently hiding out in this room while the battle went on outside. He reacted quickly, darting back and lifting his crossbow. In response, Jaheira and Minsc lifted theirs.

"Woah, there!" Imoen shot out and stood between the stranger adopting the classic 'now, we've all had a little bit to drink' pose that she'd learnt from Winthrop.

"What are you doing now, child?" Jaheira snarled, clearly still angry. Imoen realised she may have been pushing her luck, but it was the first human face they'd seen and he was dressed more like the dead man they'd found earlier than one of Irenicus' minions.

"Maybe we should find out if we're enemies before shooting each other?" The redhead pleaded with her. "I mean... he's clearly not a Duergar is he?"

"Very well. Talk to him," Jaheira allowed, but she didn't lower her weapon just yet. Imoen turned to the man and began to speak.

"Heya... I'm Imoen. The big man is Minsc and the permanently scowling lady is Jaheira," she said. The man looked at her, tilting his head curiously. "Er... we're prisoners. Trying to escape." He kept looking at her with a curious look but not saying anything. The man was clearly from Kara-Tur, the eastern continent of Toril. The vast majority of people on Toril spent their entire lives never journeying more than a few miles from the places they were born long distance travel being much the exclusive domain of the very rich or very powerful. So to see someone from the other side of the world here on The Sword Coast was quite a rare thing. Imoen had met one other person from Kara-Tur before; Tamoko. She had been Sarevok's beau. Imoen had no idea where she had gotten to after the battle beneath Baldur's Gate. Maybe it was good they hadn't bumped into each other again; Imoen had broken her promise to try and spare Sarevok's life.

"Maybe he doesn't understand me," Imoen shrugged when he didn't respond at all. "We're prisoners... trying to escape. Who are you?"

"Why is it that you westerners always think that if a foreigner does not understand you, you only need to say the same thing again, but more loudly?" The man said in perfect common.

"Oh... you, talk."

"Evidently, yes."

"So you can answer my question, then; who are you?"

"Why, I am Yoshimo," he announced, as if that ought to have meant something. "You know, Yoshimo?" Didn't ring a bell to Imoen... she looked back to Minsc and Jaheira, both of whom were equally as clueless. "Perhaps I need to speak more slowly; Yo-shim-o..."

"Wait," Imoen gasped, "you mean... you're the Yoshimo? Feared by all?"

"At last, an admirer!" He grinned proudly. "Yes, it is I. Please do not ask for an autograph."

"Um... I was being sarcastic."

"Ah... forgive me. I am still not used to your strange western sense of humour or your fetish for highly fattening milk based products. You cannot be from Athkatla then, or you would have heard of me."

"Is that where we are?" Jaheira asked. Everyone still had their weapons pointed at each other. "Athkatla?"

"It was where I was," Yoshimo shrugged, "I was prisoner here like yourselves... escaped in the confusion. I do not think I could have been taken far, but then I may have been drugged... I am uncertain. Perhaps we can escape together? Four heads are better than three, or one, hm?"

"Four," Minsc glared.

"Excuse me, friend?"

"We are four," the warrior corrected. Boo leapt onto his shoulder and announced his presence.

"Ah... I did not see your friend there. Five heads are better than four, then."

"Minsc likes the little man," the warrior grinned. "You are welcome to join us! So long as you do not clip your nails with your teeth. Boo does not like that."

Imoen was fine with him joining them as well. He seemed amiable enough; with his high hairline, little goatee and long moustache he kind of looked like he should be a villain. And yet... he had a cheeky smile, and cheekiness as far as Imoen was concerned was the surest sign of a trustworthy person. Of course the final decision, as it always had, rested with Jaheira.

"Some day my trusting nature will lead me into wrong," the druid sighed, finally lowering her weapon. "But very well... tell me first though, have you seen any other prisoners?"

"I..." Yoshimo turned his head away for a second, as if distracted by something. "Why do you ask?"

"I need to find my husband, Khalid."

"I... see," he lowered his and thought for a moment. "No, I have not seen anyone," he said. But it was pretty obvious to everyone that he must have seen something. Jaheira grabbed his arm, squeezing it tightly as she pulled his face close to hers.

"If you know anything, you should tell me now," he must have been surprised by her strength. Most people were.

"There was... someone," he admitted, "but... I do not think it could be him."

"How can you know?" Jaheira narrowed her eyes in warning, "I have not even told you what he looks like."

"If... if it is him, then," Yoshimo shook his head. "Perhaps it is better if I just showed you. The battle seems to have been taken outside now, but there are still many traps ahead. I will lead the way and make sure it is clear.

"Oh, I can help you," Imoen stepped forward. She knew a bit about traps as well... it might make up in some way for what happened earlier.

"You nearly killed us," Jaheira pulled her back again, "the last place I want to see you is near anything that might explode."

And so once again Imoen followed behind the rest of the group. Some distance behind, since she felt that it was better for her health and Jaheira's soul that the druid did not see her at all right now; if she did, she might commit a terrible sin. Yoshimo did the work that Imoen did when they'd explored places such as Durlag's Tower together. Even though their party had grown, she felt more and more alone. And the heartbeat hadn't gone away. It was still getting louder.

She didn't know why she had froze in the fight with the Duergar; nothing like that had ever happened to her before. And then to make such a stupid mistake... she wondered if Jaheira would ever forget it and let Imoen get back on her good side. Well... Imoen supposed she'd never really been on Jae's good side because of all the pranks and stuff. But she had managed to be on her 'alright' side before. More importantly, would Imoen ever forget? Maybe her adventuring days were over... it had been fun being a hero, occasionally. But imprisonment and torture and seeing her friends die... she hadn't been prepared for that. She supposed she should have been. What a bufflehead.

With no tasks to keep her occupied, Imoen was still lost in thought when the others stopped in a room ahead. It was only when she bumped into Minsc's back that she looked up and saw what they all saw...

Yoshimo, his head lowered solemnly as pointed Jaheira to the table. Minsc looked disgusted, barely suppressing his rage. But the worst was Jaheira; the druid had always been unshakeable. But now for the first time Imoen saw horror and despair there.

The redhead remembered this room now, and she recalled again the knives and the cutting and so much blood... it... it couldn't have been...

"Kha... Khalid," Jaheira sounded weak as she slumped to her knees. Irenicus had left just enough of his face intact that they could recognise him. The rest of him had been cut to pieces. "You... you can't be... Khalid..." she wept. It was the first time any of them had seen her in tears, and no one was sure how they should react to it. This... this was Jaheira. You never had to worry about Jaheira; she was always strong even when others weren't.

Irenicus... it was as if he was dismantling everything Imoen had taken for granted. But why? What was it all for? Why had her friends had to die like this? Was it because of her... what was inside her? This... this was her fault. Maybe if she hadn't been so useless...

Silence had descended in the chamber, other than Jaheira's plaintive sobs. Imoen was the first to break.

"He... he didn't suffer," she said. She doubted it would be much comfort but she had never seen Jaheira, or anyone, in this much pain and she didn't know what else to do.

"_What?_ What are you babbling about, child?" Jaheira slowly turned on her, her eyes red with a mixture of sorrow and rage. Imoen didn't know how much of that rage might be directed at her, but she pushed on.

"I remember now... I saw it happen. Khalid... he was already dead when Irenicus did this..."

"What? " The druid hissed. If she had been angry at her before, then... Imoen gulped. "Why... why did you say nothing before? You let me go on believing that... my Khalid was still alive when all the while you know...?"

"I didn't!" Imoen cried desperately. "I didn't remember... I guess I didn't want to. Made myself forget... but I remember it now. He said he wanted to show me..."

"Show _you?" _Jaheira's eyes narrowed further, and although still on her knees she was inching towards Imoen with what looked like murderous. The revelation that Irenicus had used Khalid as a tool to get to Imoen had clearly been the wrong one right now. "And you just watched?"

"I couldn't," Imoen sobbed, "I couldn't do anything. Khalid was already dead... I... I-I-I'm sorry..."

"Sorry? You think I want to hear sorry right now? Do you think mere words can make up for any of this?"

"I'm sorry," Imoen repeated, covering her face as she now wept as well.

"Enough!" Jaheira turned herself away suddenly. "I... I do not wish to hear any more words."

Jaheira knelt beside the remains of her husband, and remained in silence while Imoen still wept. It really had been her fault... he had wanted to show her, so why use Khalid? Ever since the night she'd ran from Candlekeep to the friendly Amn she had followed Jaheira, trusted all her decisions... but now, how could the druid ever look at her again after this? She was useless. She didn't deserve. The heartbeat was getting louder, and faster, until it became one long drawn out... and then it stopped.

Under normal circumstances that would have been a relief. But it wasn't. How could she grateful that her headache had stopped when this had happened to her friends? Anyway, it came back again after a minute... but this, there was something else. It had a voice all of a sudden.

_'You are not the one,' _it said. It was Imoen's voice, inside her head... only different somehow, _'no, you're not supposed to be here at all. This is all wrong.' _So great; on top of everything else she really had gone. Hysterical. Really.

_'Shut up,' _Imoen, the real Imoen such as she was right now, told it. _'I don't need any disembodied voices in my head right now.'_

_ 'Oh, you've got it all wrong silly. I mean, yes, I am a disembodied voice, for the time being, but you're not going mad just yet.'_

_ 'But I suppose you're going to try to make me do stuff... steal, kill, eat all the rice pudding, that sort of thing, right?'_

_ 'No. You're too pathetic to waste that kind of effort on... but something could be salvaged, at least. So I think I'll probably just kill you.'_

_ 'You'd be killing yourself, bufflehead.'_

_ 'Oh, I'm not going to kill your body. You're quite right; I'll need that. I'm just going to kill your mind and then daddy's little girl will be able to have some real fun.'_

_ 'Daddy's little... just shut up you! You're just a figment of my imagination.'_

_ 'Try and make me shut up. Go on, try it... oh, no wait... you can't, because I'm in here and you're out there. Nyahnyahnyahnyah... can't get me!'_

This was ridiculous, Imoen thought. Why was she talking to it? She just had to ignore it and it would go away.

_'Oh, yes. Try ignoring me. See if that works. I'm guessing... not. There's no escaping me Imoen... I'm inside you, and you've a lot to learn. And, oh yes, you will learn. Or you could be a good girl and just die like you were meant to.'_

"No!" Imoen said out loud all of a sudden, drawing concerned looks from Minsc and Yoshimo. "I'm not going to die in this place... I won't!" And then she ran out of the room... the way out couldn't have been far. She had to get away from this place... she had to get away from all of them before anyone else was hurt because of her.

"Jaheira!" Minsc cried, trying to stir the druid into action. "Little Imoen has..."

"I know," the druid sneered, "let her run."

Jaheira supposed that they, she and Khalid, had always known it was possible one of them would meet their end like this... well, perhaps not quite like this. But she had never given any thought as to what she would she would do if it actually happened. It just seemed like such a remote possibility... but it had happened, and nothing she could do would change that. She looked on his and tried not to remember him like this... all bloodied and torn. She tried instead to remember her husband... her brave, strong, kind Khalid. Too kind, really; he'd spoilt Imoen, quite frankly. Far too easily forgave all her antics... but then, maybe, just maybe, she was at times too harsh. Together Jaheira and Khalid had... balance. But now he was gone. She would never be whole again.

She looked into his eyes and saw not the still dead eyes that were actually there, but the eyes of the man she had loved. And he was not happy; if she could hear him now, he would be reminding that whatever had happened, she was still a Harper, and she still had a mission and a promise she had made... that they had both made to their friend a long time ago. Imoen... Khalid had cared for Imoen like he would have cared for their own daughter. He would want her to persevere and go on... why had she let her run off like that!

'_Damn you Khalid! You just wait... I will join you one day and you will never hear the end of it for leaving me like this!'_

She kissed him gently one last time and let him sleep... for now, anyway. Now though, she had to go on. She had to see it through. She picked up her weapons and ran off after Imoen... she didn't know what was going on in that girls head. Whatever it was, they would have to sort it out later. The druid heard a scream up ahead... unmistakeably Imoen's, and so she quickened her pace.

The girl had been jumped on by some blonde elven woman; her body was wet and covered in little cuts which could be seen because she was also completely. Jaheira did not try to make sense of these things, since the most pertinent issue right now was the knife she had held against Imoen's throat.

"Stay away!" The elven woman snarled. "I shall never let thee touch me!"

"Jah-Jaheira, please," Imoen sobbed and whimpered, "I... I don't want to die here. Please..."

"I do not have time for any more games," Jaheira declared, and then shot the woman with her crossbow. Right between the eyes. She'd been holding the knife all wrong anyway; she might have made Imoen bleed a bit, but that would have been it.

The elf slumped back, releasing her grip. Unfortunately the sight of a dead woman did little to take the edge of this panic attack Imoen was suddenly having.

"I can't die!" The girl kept saying. "I have to get the surface! I have to go..."

Jaheira had seen this sort of thing happen to people before, even to experienced warriors. Battle fatigue it was called; too many things piled up at once and the mind just couldn't take strain and so it snapped. It probably wasn't permanent, but Jaheira regretted that she hadn't trained Imoen more, helped build up her resistance to abuse and torture. Unfortunately, it was another thing she didn't really have time to deal with now.

She lifted Imoen up, spun her round, and hit her with an uppercut to the chin.

"Minsc!" Jaheira caught Imoen as she slumped, and handed her unconscious form to the big man. He was able to carry her easily over one shoulder; they probably should have just done this as soon as Jaheira first noticed the girl wasn't really all there.

"Look at this," Yoshimo beckoned the druid over to a nearby doorway. She stood next to him and peered inside. Glass liquid filled tanks connected to machinery... she had seen similar setups in some of the rooms down below. But the tanks here contained people... some had only bits of people and three had been shattered. But... no, not people. They all contained the same person.

Jaheira knew nothing of science and technology and all this experimental magix, but this was varly self-explanatory; he was making copies. Copies of the same person... someone important to him, perhaps? Anyone important to this Irenicus was from now on important to her as well... she would remember that elf's face, just as she would remember his at least until she had extinguished it from this world for good.

Yoshimo nodded at the floor. Following his look, she saw there was another set of wet footprints in addition to those of the clone they'd killed, coming out of one of the shattered tanks, out of the room and up along the corridor. Another clone had escaped, possibly two since there were three broken tanks, although there were no tracks from the last one.

In any case, the prints led up and that was where they were going too.

At last, there was light at the end of the tunnel. Jaheira started to feel refreshed the moment she felt the natural sunlight against her skin. The scene that greeted the group outside however was not so warm. They stood on the edge of a rubble filled crater in the middle of what was definitely a city. They could see some white marble structure filled with arches stretch out and curve to either side of them, and hear the bustle of a metropolis as the noise of the battle was just coming to an end. There was also Irenicus.

He stood in the middle of the crater, bodies of leather clad men and women wearing hoods encircling him. A short distance away, the last hooded figure was suspended in the air as if held up by a rope, although none was visible and there was nothing above to tie it to. Irenicus twisted his arm and tightened his fist, and the suspended man's bodied cracked and bent, like he was being crushed by the fist of an invisible giant, and then Irenicus opened his hand and the man fell, dead.

"H-hey," Imoen said, coming round at that moment. "Hey!" She started raining feeble blows on Minsc's back, demanding to be let down.

"Shut up, child," Jaheira hissed.

"You! You punched me...again. I... I oughta..."

"What?" The druid arched her brow... still angry, Imoen could see.

"I... I oughta find a little person and beat them up for it. Where are we? What's everyone looking... oh," Minsc dropped her down on her feet, in front of Irenicus. He had turned now to face them, regarding them as coldly as he always had. Those chills ran up and down Imoen's spine... but no, she couldn't run. A strange resolve suddenly took hold of her.

Today she had failed, badly. It was her fault her friends had died and that she had nearly killed everyone else too. And so, she had to face him.

"So, godchild, you have escaped," Irenicus noted without much interest, "you are more resourceful than I had thought."

"You... you're not going to torture us... You're not going to torture anyone anymore," the redhead said, clenching her fist.

"Torture? Silly girl, you just don't understand what I'm doing, do you?"

"I don't care what you're doing! It ends now!"

"Now? No, not now. Not when I'm so close to unlocking your power."

"I don't want anything from you!"

Imoen hadn't handed over all the wands she'd had when Jaheira had demanded; she'd needed something just to safe, and it was a wand of magic missile she'd kept tucked in her boot. Not something she could blow everyone up with, even by accident. At least the chances of it exploding as to not even be worth mentioning. Now it appeared instantly in her hand. She aimed it at Irenicus and uttered the command, and a sphere of powerful magical energy leapt out headly surely for his chest, hitting him and... doing nothing whatsoever. He didn't even flinch... Imoen stood, frozen to the spot with her jaw hanging open.

"Was that really the best you could do?" Irenicus said, clearly disappointed still. With a non-chalant wave, a blue flame engulfed the red haired. It didn't really burn her; her skin was untouched. But the feeling of burning was still quite strong, overwhelming her senses and causing her to once again slip into unconsciousness after one last terrified scream.

Jaheira charged directly at the sorcerer her weapons drawn and hungry for his blood. Another sweeping hand gesture, and it was as if she'd ran straight into an elastic wall and was catapulted straight back.

Minsc was ready to go next, to avenge Khalid and Dynaheir... but Yoshimo put a hand on his shoulder.

"No, my friend. Look!" He pointed to the other side of the crater, where the air had started to distort, and then a group of grey robed figures carrying staffs, faces obscured by large hoods, stepped through several holes that had appeared in space.

"This is an unsanctioned use of magical energy," one, obviously an elderly man, declared to the audience. Some of the city folk had gathered nearby to watch the fight. "All involved will be held, this disturbance, is over," he said in a grand theatrical voice, which the spectators seemed to enjoy.

"These are Cowled Wizards," Yoshimo explained, "they monitor all use of magic throughout Amn, and suppress any of which they don't approve. It is the wrong place to duel with magic."

"Must I be interrupted at every turn?" said Irenicus, for the first time showing an emotion; irritation. "Enough of this!"

On this occasion these Cowled Wizards seemed to have walked into more than they had bargained for. The adventurers, including Imoen who was coming around again, took cover at the edge of the crater as Irenicus and the grey robes exchanged bolts of highly destructive energy erupting from their staffs and their fingertips. The wizards fell one after another to the leather clad sorcerer, but more and more kept coming through those tears. With no telling how many there were, Irenicus seemed to eventually come to the conclusion that it was a stalemate.

"Enough! I haven't the time for this!" He declared.

"You will cease your spellcasting and come with us!"

"Your pathetic magics are useless. Let this end."

"Even if we fall, our numbers are many. You will be overwhelmed."

"You bore me mageling. Very well, you may take me in, but..."

"Irenicus!" The nearby crowd and the adventurers were all surprised to see another player enter the scene. And clearly so was Irenicus. He stared in disbelief at the blonde haired elf dragging her feet into the crater, covered by a long white robe.

"Dost thou wish to prey upon me again, my master..." she chuckled. Maybe he wasn't listening and didn't realise she was just a clone. Maybe for a moment he let himself believe that she was actually the original, whoever that may have been. In any case he allowed her to get very close... close enough that she had her lips almost pressed up against his. "You created me... and killed and created and killed and created, and now... i shall put an end to thee!"

The clone woman revealed the dagger she had tucked up her sleeve, bringing it up and then down to Irenicus' neck... he bought his defences up just in time. She was unable to break through the magic barrier around him, but she kept pushing with the blade anyway, her hateful eyes locked with his, slightly more sorrowful ones. Another emotion Imoen had not expected to see, and refused to believe had.

The wizards saw that he was distracted, and seized the advantage quickly. While the sorcerer and the clone where locked together, they began to cast a spell of imprisonment over them both. The wizards, along with their captives, disappeared the same way they had arrived, the holes in space closing behind them.

"No... no!" Jaheira snarled and ran out, desperate to follow them. "I will not be denied like this! Where have they disappeared to?" Minsc and Yoshimo ran out after her, but Imoen stayed where she was.

She'd been useless. Weak and useless. Every time she had tried to help today all she'd done was make everything worse... Jaheira would want justice, revenge. Clearly she would have had a better chance without Imoen.

_'Can't say I disagree with any of that,'_ the voice that was Imoen but not Imoen said, _'no, really; I'd say you've hit the nail perfectly on the head there.'_

She tried to ignore it, but she didn't argue. There was no argument she could make, really.

"You... you are right," Jaheira breathed deeply, Yoshimo having convinced her that it was pointless and indeed foolhardy to just run after them. "We... we must not rush into anything."

"Lady Jaheira!" Minsc cried.

"What is it, Minsc?"

"It is little Imoen..."

"What?"

"She... she is gone..."

* * *

As Imoen ran through this market she found herself in, her head exploded again. She could hear daddy's girl laughing at her. It wasn't just her head either; her stomach ached. She didn't know what she'd eaten recently, if anything at all. The pain and the grief became too much once again, and she collapsed in the dirt.

As the world blurred and faded around her she was briefly aware of a blonde haired girl leaning over her, asking if she was all right and if she needed any help. Imoen didn't answer; everything faded to black.


	4. Ch 3: Awakening

**Out Of The Shadows**

**Chapter Three:**

**Awakening**

"She looks familiar," Quayle squinted over the red haired girl as he rubbed his spectacles with the hem of his shirt. "I think I may have travelled with her for a bit last year, near Baldur's Gate. I liked the look of her and her friends and we happened to be going the same way. Which was north. Or south... it could have been east. I think she had one of those silly girl's crushes on me; just wouldn't leave me alone. But of course nothing could come of it, poor thing..."

"Uncle Quayle!" Aerie snapped a look at him, her brow furrowing crossly. The Elf was quite a small person by Elf or Human standards; just a little over five feet. But she still stood well above the Gnome. Under normal circumstances she'd be happy to humour him and listen intently to his reminiscing, even though she knew his memory was a bit... selective, and what he remembered and what he imagined often became entangled. "I-I don't think we have time for this..."

"I don't think she's going anywhere, my dear," he put his spectacles back on and looked more closely at the redhead on Aerie's bed. They had closed the shutters in the caravan, so he held up a lamp as he examined the girl who squirmed and grimaced, although she still hadn't regained consciousness. "Not for a while, anyway."

Aerie sagged slightly. She didn't know why Baervar had granted her powers to heal; she had been studying magic for some time, but the first time she had become aware of possessing divine power was after two of the male chimps had a fight. She'd placed her hand over the wounds of one of them and she suddenly was able to visualise all of the matter around the wound and command it to grow and heal. Since then she'd read every book she had on anatomy and medicine several times while keeping up her studies of magic. Regrettably though, the number of books available to her was few; another reason she was always happy when Bentha was around and brought her own library. But Aerie's experience as a healer was still very little; she'd thought that Quayle, who had lived a few centuries and seen and done many things outside the circus, was sure to know what was wrong with the red haired girl she'd found, if anyone did. Her hopes were dashed very quickly:

"I've never seen anything like it," he said, "sweating, fever... all the signs are that she's fighting some kind of infection. But there is no infection..."

The elf already knew that much. When she had found the girl she'd thought she must have been hurt in the explosion, but all she could see was a bruise on her chin. It was clear the redhead was dehydrated and a little malnourished as well, but it was only when Aerie had tried to help her up that she'd noticed the high fever. She'd already tried all the healing spells she knew, but to no avail.

"What... w-what about a curse?" The blonde elf asked.

"I don't think so, no," Quayle pursed his lips and shook his head, clearly baffled. "Maybe we should take her to one of the temples?"

"I... I-I know that's what we should do," Aerie sighed, "but, i-it's just that... she was running."

"Running?" Quayle arched a small eyebrow. "From what?"

"I-I don't know... but she looked scared. I just... I-I think," Aerie stumbled with her words, biting her lip. "I'm sorry. I'm sure you know what's best."

"No," Quayle said with an encouraging smile, "finish your thought, Aerie. I won't become angry if I disagree."

"Well... I just think, i-if she was running from something, a-and that something is still out there, then... i-it might be expecting her to show up at a temple."

"Maybe," the old Gnome nodded thoughtfully. But then his expression shifted abruptly, he looked on his adopted niece suddenly full of concern and worry. "But maybe the something will come here... no, no... its too dangerous to keep her here. I can't allow anything that might hurt you..."

"_Uncle_," Aerie said with a sharp intake of breath. She knew what he thought; he thought she was too soft for anything that was out there. Maybe she was; she didn't know. She didn't know about anything out there, but she did know she wanted to find those things out for herself. It wasn't as if life in here was exactly comfortable for her, anyway. "I-I'm not weak. I can defend myself with magic a-and..."

"You mustn't!" Quayle gasped. "If you use your magic in the open you'll be taken away like that sorcerer this morning."

"But... Uncle, w-what's the point of me learning a-and having this power if I've got to keep it a secret," the Elf said, barely able to disguise her frustration.

"You won't have to always, my dear. One day, when you're more confident and used to people, one day you'll be able to help me do the shows and maybe take over, one day..."

"Y-yes, Uncle," Aerie said resignedly. She was _such_ a coward... she knew that day was never going to come. She had no real interest in Circus tricks and illusions. If it weren't for the fact that she owed him her life...

"It's natural to be concerned," the Gnome sighed, "but I have to think about you... us. There are just too many unknowns."

"You... you said you knew her?" Aerie asked. She wasn't ready to give up on this just yet; this was one of the very few times in her life she actually felt sure about something, although she wasn't completely sure why. But she knew that trusting the girl to anyone else right now was the wrong thing to do.

"Briefly, I think... yes. We went to Durlag's Tower together."

"Du... t-that old Dwarven tower you were talking about?" Aerie froze, her mouth hanging open. "But... y-you said it was dangerous!"

"I'm sorry, Aerie, my dear. I just wanted one last adventure... I went there to solve the mystery. Heh... what I learnt though was that I'm really much too old to be running from traps and shadows or playing with magic mirrors..."

"I-I'm not upset that you went," Aerie assured him, "I'm upset that you went without... Uh, anyway, look at her, Uncle. S-she might die if we abandon her now..."

"She might die if we keep her here," Quayle reminded, "we don't know what her ailment is. At least at a temple there are a lot more resources, priests, books... a far better chance of someone knowing something that will help her."

Aerie leant back, folding her arms. There was no disputing Uncle Quayle's logic, and yet she couldn't shake the feeling that it was wrong, like there was a little voice telling her that she had to take care of the girl. Maybe it was just that... seeing her the first time, that look of fear and confusion, and now the threat of abandonment to some unknown fate, Aerie was reminded... and of course, there was still the matter of what it was she was running from.

"I think we should at least keep her here until morning," the Elf uttered, "s-see if her condition improves... i-it might not be safe to move her again now."

"Very well, Aerie," the old Gnome conceded, "until morning, then. You stay and watch over her; I'll make sure someone covers your chores. But, if she wakes up or if anything happens, anything at all, you just come and get me, okay?"

"Yes, Uncle," the Elf said with a sweet smile.

"Come here," the Gnome held his arms out. Aerie knelt in front of him and they embraced in a hug, Quayle gently pecking her forehead before letting go. "You be careful, you hear?"

"Of course I will!" Aerie grinned. "Thank you, Uncle."

He left, then. The show still had to go on, and there were other people with minor injuries he had to tend to. Aerie was alone with the red haired girl; not much to do but make her comfortable, and then make herself comfortable. After squeezing some more water from a towel and placing it on the girl's forehead, the Elf went to other end of the caravan, where the other bed was. There was a chest there, beneath the brightly coloured posters that advertised acts such as Esmeralda the Fortune Teller, Dinky the Elephant and The Amazing Oompah.

She remembered Oompah; one good thing about the Circus was that people of all different races came here, because they had nowhere else. Oompah was an Ogre, a race most people considered monsters. He wasn't, but what they did to him... that was cruel beyond belief. She wasn't surprised to hear that he'd snapped; if people treated someone like a beast they probably shouldn't be surprised when that person started to act like one. Oompah was no beast; he just didn't have the faculties to deal with things in any way other than what he did... and then they'd put him down.

But, she wasn't here to dwell on the past. She knelt down and the top of the chest made a loud creaking, grinding noise as she opened it. Inside it were books. All the books that she had... well, that Quayle had, really. Books about all sorts of things; about magic, about healing, about science and Gnomish engineering, about philosophy and about art... there were even books that were about other books. There were novels too; they told stories about adventurers in faraway lands, and even on other worlds. She had read every single one of these books at least five or six times. They were her escape from the cruelty as well as the tedium that took place around her every day.

She glanced up, hearing the red haired girl moan... but she was still asleep, still grimacing as if someone was hurting her. Aerie wished she could help, but all she could do was wait and hope. She picked up a book at random and sat down on the other bed to begin her vigil.

'It came to me in a dream that there was absolutely nothing in the world; no bodies, no sky, none of those little buns with icing and a cherry... indeed, no world. Instead we were all the victims of some 'supreme being', greater even than any of the Gods we know, or think we do, who had been deceiving me for my entire life. What I believed was the world, but had only ever perceived through my unreliable senses, was in fact no more than an illusion. A fantasy created by some grinning idiot who hadn't combed his hair, indeed hadn't left his bedroom for a week, and who rolled dice to determine my fate...'

The red haired girl groaned again... this time Aerie thought she heard her whisper something. 'Please, no... help me...' was what the Elf thought she'd heard, but she wasn't sure. As pointy as her ears were, she was absorbed in the text when the barely decipherable mumbling reached them. In any case, it was highly improbable that the girl was trying to talk to her and was now back in exactly the same state she had been in before. Aerie resumed reading:

'... Does it follow that I too, do not exist? No; if I convinced myself of something then I existed. If there is some deceiver, deceiving me, I must also exist in order to be deceived. He can never bring about that I am nothing so long as I think that I am something. I _think_... I _am_... this proposition is necessarily true whenever it is put forward by my mind...'

_Mind_... Aerie thought; If there was no infection invading the girl's body, what about something invading her mind? Was that possible? There were, she knew, all kinds of spells that affected the minds of people... or maybe possession, but Quayle at least should have been able to pick up on that.

She put the book down; the rest of it was all very fascinating, even though she didn't necessarily agree with all it's conclusions... the bit that said only Humans were capable of reason was particularly aggravating. She went over to girl, who was still squirming, grimacing... Aerie didn't know if she was imagining it, but the pain seemed to be getting worse. How could she find out what was going on in there?

Certainly there were spells she knew that would allow her to see into the mind of another person... although not exactly to read their minds. They were more empathic; to know if the person was lying, or at least if they thought they were, or to reveal whether their intentions were hostile or benign. Not terribly useful right now, and they only really worked if the person was awake... but maybe she could take some elements from those and combine them with a simple scrying spell...

Aerie went to work, excited by the idea of trying something she never had before, which was most things. But this was finally a chance for her to put all the things she had been learning since Quayle had taken her in to real use. She found a blank piece of parchment, a quill and ink, and began to work out the symbols for her new spell. It took her five minutes. She wondered if she should test it first, but she was pretty sure that nothing she'd done could actually harm the girl... the very worst that could happen was her head exploding, but there was only about a one in two million chance of that. The Elf was confident she could do this, and for once there was no one around who could tell her otherwise.

For the scrying, she would need a bowl filled with some kind of liquid... the goat's milk would do. She put the bowl down near the girl and took a small brush she painted with some times; Quayle tried to encourage her to resume the hobbies that had made her happy as a child. Aerie was sure she wasn't very good despite what her Uncle said, but... anyway, she dipped the end of the brush into the goats milk and 'painted' a circle on the red haired girl's forehead. With that done she was just about ready. She just sprinkled a bit of dust on the girl, and into the bowl, closed her eyes, tried to think happy thoughts, and then began reciting the magic words in the ancient language of the elves. There were no flashing, sparkling lights that danced around her; only mages who wanted to show off ever had those. It wasn't how magic really worked; it was more subtle.

At first it didn't appear that anything had happened. Aerie finished reciting and opened her eyes, peering into the bowl. Her hand went to her face, thinking she must have had a nosebleed when she noticed a few red droplets in the white liquid... but, no... it wasn't blood. Not her blood, anyway... more and more of the white turned red, little tendrils spreading across the surface of the liquid and then growing and swallowing up everything around them until half of the bowl was covered. What this meant was, Aerie was right; the blood red represented something that was almost like a second consciousness... although that was perhaps a slight oversimplification. It was hard to be sure when all you had to go on was differently coloured liquids swirling round each other. Whatever it was, the girl was fighting it, and she was losing; the red was still growing, slowly. If it kept going like it was, then before morning came it would have completely taken over her body.

Aerie had to find a way of stopping it, and fast; she didn't know if there was even time to find Quayle and fill him in on what she'd found. The invader's progress might accelerate at any time... but how could she stop it? She couldn't exactly jump into the girl's dream and help her... could she? No, it was too risky right now. She didn't know anything about the girl, or even if stopping the invader was actually better. But, a person had a right to their own body... and if she had travelled with Quayle she at least had to be a very patient person.

She doubted she could remove it, and trying to do so could be extremely dangerous... they were too entangled. All she could do was suppress it... force it back into the girl's unconscious mind. This she believed could be accomplished through another hastily prepared recipe she'd just thought of, this time the components mixed with some nice warm tea and made into a potion. She threw it all together into a pot filled with water, heated it with some magically created fire, stirred it as she uttered the enchantment and then poured it into a cup.

Aerie lifted the red haired girl's head slightly, pressing the cup to her lips and tipping it up until the girl started to swallow. Now she just had to wait again... she was surprised to see, when she looked into the bowl, that there was a change almost immediately. The red tendrils started to retreat and shrink back, far faster than she had hoped for...

"Wha..? Who... who are you?" Aerie stood up so hastily that she sent the bowl flying; it didn't matter. The red haired girl was awake and starting to sit up. Although elated at her success, the Elf soon recalled that she didn't know what had happened to the girl... or what she would make of her. She could still be hostile.

"Er... I'm... I'm Aerie," the Elf said, standing and trying, unsuccessfully, to hide her apprehension.

"Hiya, Aerie!" The red haired girl said with a big smile. "I'm Imoen. It's always nice to meet nice people. You're an Elf?"

"Er, y-yes... the ears usually give that away," Aerie said in an attempt at humour; she was told that was a good way of easing the tension in any situation. Imoen just glared at her though... "Um... are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah... I think so... hang on," Imoen knocked her own head a few times with her fist, "hello, anyone there? No? Yup... I'm fine."

"Er... are you sure?" The Elf tilted her head, a little bit worried...

"Sure," Imoen laughed, "I think I was going a bit mad for a while there, but... I feel fine now. Well, as fine as I have done for a long time, anyway."

"Okay... good," she didn't seem dangerous, Aerie thought... just a little strange. "Do... d-do you remember anything?"

"I was... dreaming, I think. It's all a bit hazy," Imoen stared into space, "I was... I was fighting someone. But I was so weak, and they were so strong. I was losing... I thought I was going to die, and then... I saw you," the redhead shrugged.

"What... wh-what about before the dream?"

"Before?" Imoen looked away and her smile faded. "I-I-I don't..."

"I'm sorry," Aerie stepped back, lowering her head and bowing submissively. "I-it's none of my business. I'm sorry..."

"It's... it's fine," Imoen regarded the Elf bemusedly, "I'm sure if I was in your position I'd be bombarding myself with questions right now. You deserve some answers, having brought me into your... home? And I'm assuming I have you to thank for making me feel better," Imoen knelt down and picked up some of the pieces of paper scattered across the floor, that Aerie written on when she was figuring out her spells. "Wow... did you do all this?"

"Yeh... y-yes. I-I probably shouldn't have done, I know... I-I'd never tried anything like that before..."

"Don't know of anyone who has. I see you're not _just_ book smart. This... this is genius, Aerie."

"Really?" Aerie said, truly startled. "I... th-thank you."

"You've got to be better at taking praise though," Imoen laughed again as she approached the Elf, "say, 'ah, it was nothing... just what I do'. Be a bit nonchalant about it. Also, back straight... chin up... isn't that better? Now I can talk to you and not the top of your head."

Imoen joined her hands together above her head and stretched and yawned. Aerie kept her eyes on her, although the Elf was less apprehensive than she had been. The red haired girl seemed nice, and that was the only thing Aerie ever wished for in people. She wasn't complex in that way; she just liked people who didn't push her or kick her all the time.

"So, you wanna know who is this crazy girl is and why she was running around through... I don't even know where this is," Imoen paused, "what city?"

"Athkatla," Aerie answered.

"Oh. So, Jae's tastebuds were right again... oh," Imoen tilted her head, clearly troubled by some thought, "she is going to be so furious. I shouldn't have ran... I don't even know why I did. It seemed to make sense at the time...but I guess I was just panicky and scared. I've been adventuring for a while now, but I've never been so trapped and helpless, unable to defend myself... or anyone else. It all just became too much," Imoen paused again, turned and looked at Aerie who was obviously still confused. "Sorry... I'm losing ya, huh?" The Elf nodded. "Okay..."

"I see your work; I see you've already figured out there's something... different. Something inside me," Imoen sighed, "I guess you ought to know what that thing is. See... do you know anything about The Time of Troubles?"

"I-I remember it, a little," Aerie said.

"Right," Imoen smiled. "I forget sometimes... you seem so young. I mean, at least about the same age as me. But you could be four hundred years old for all I know."

"I-I'm not that old," Aerie smiled back. "Age is a little bit relative, I suppose... a Dog is ancient after living just fifteen years. I... well, I probably am about the same age as you, relatively speaking... Oh!" The Elf suddenly went wide eyed and backed away, shaking her hand, "I-I wasn't comparing you to a Dog. I-I was just..."

"I got it, Aerie. You're alright," Imoen shook her head, still smiling. "So... there was a God called Bhaal. You know anything about him?"

"He... he was the God of Murder."

"Yup. You can probably imagine that he wasn't all that nice. In fact, he was a berk. But someone foretold before the Time of Troubles, when God's were made mortal, that he was going to die. So he thought, to make sure that didn't happen, he'd have a load of kids. So that when he perished enough of his essence would be left in the world that his followers could resurrect him... except that they didn't, and all his children are still out there. You see where this is going?"

"So... y-you're..."

"Yup. Bhaal is my father," Imoen threw out her arms dramatically.

Aerie sat down on the bed. Imoen kept looking at her, gauging her. She didn't know what the red haired girl was expecting; she had no reason to doubt that Bhaal was her father, and given that he was the God of murder she should probably be worried for her safety... but she just couldn't equate that evil deity with the young woman who had said she was a 'genius'. Imoen was exaggerating, obviously, but it was a nice thing to have said. All of this... it just wasn't something that ever happened. Only it had and Aerie had no idea how to react to it.

"Well... you're not screaming or running away," Imoen said, "that's a good sign, I hope."

"I'm sorry, I-I just... I've never met a demigod before."

"I've never felt like a demigod," Imoen sighed and sagged as she sat down as well, "it sounds ridiculous every time I say it. I only found out a few months ago. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't believe me... I didn't believe it, until today..."

Imoen went on talking, while Aerie listened. The Elf wondered why Imoen was telling her all this and felt a little guilty about not telling the red haired girl anything about herself. But it became clear that Imoen just wanted someone to actually listen to her as she told her own story; she needed to talk to someone, to get things off her chest, and in so doing perhaps help herself to make sense of them as well. Aerie hadn't ran away; she didn't know how she could really help, but she was willing to listen at least.

Imoen told her about Candlekeep; Aerie had heard of the great library of course, where copies were kept of every book ever written. It was one of the places she most wanted to visit, one day... of course, if she did she might never leave. Imoen spoke fondly of it too, although she speculated that having too much choice of reading material was responsible for her quite poor attention span. She spoke about Winthrop, her foster father, and Gorion, her teacher, and the night she left with the later and how on that night she had ran away as well. She spoke of the Iron shortage and Sarevok; Aerie remembered that as well. At least, she'd overheard worried conversations and felt the rising tension in the air as she'd gone about her usual chores.

Although clearly saddened by the memories of Gorion and her foster father, it wasn't until Imoen started recounting the recent events that had led her to be in Aerie's caravan that her tone really started to change. She became more distant, distracted. Her expressions were pained and anguished as she recalled being locked in a birdcage and tortured... she hinted that Aerie might not understand what that was like, to which the Elf said nothing but sighed silently. And she described the deaths, to which Aerie's heart clenched... she could barely imagine how horrible it must have been to see people you cared about like that...

"... and then I ran," Imoen said, just after describing what she remembered of this 'Irenicus' being taken away. "I didn't want to ever stop running. I wanted to get as far away from it all as I could... pretty stupid, huh? How can you run from something that's inside you."

"It wasn't your fault," Aerie said quietly, "i-it wasn't your fault those people died."

"But Irenicus wanted me... or what's inside me anyway. He didn't care at all about anyone else."

"No, h-he didn't. But you do... I can see you do. T-that's why I know it can't be your fault... you didn't make him do any of those things."

"No, I didn't... but I should have done more. I shouldn't have run..."

"But what could you do?"

"I don't know," Imoen snapped a little angrily, forcing Aerie to recoil. The redhead closed her eyes and took a breath. "Sorry," she said, "I just... it's a little frustrating, y'know? Ever since that night I saw Sarevok for the first time, I've just been moved along by people. There have been people trying to kill me, and other people fighting and dying for me and I just go along with it, let myself be led around by folks like a... a puppy. I've no control of anything, not even my own life. And worst thing is none of this was supposed to happen to me; it was my other brother, the stronger 'spawn', who was supposed to be the one to fulfil all these stupid prophecies. So much for destiny..."

"Fate," Aerie said suddenly. Imoen looked at her curiously. "I-I think you mean 'so much for fate'."

"Well, destiny, fate... same thing, aren't they?"

"No... at least, n-not according to my book. Fate is something that can't be avoided; i-it has to happen. But, destiny is where your choices take you."

"Your choices..." Imoen appeared to think very deeply about this. "And... sometimes, crap just happens, right?"

"I... I suppose so, yes."

"Thanks, Aerie," Imoen said with a friendly smile, "you've really helped me out."

"Er... I-I have?" The Elf said, confused.

"Yup... I think I'm starting to see what I have to do. I can't just be a follower... I have to start making my own choices."

"Yes," Aerie nodded. Being in control of one's own life was important, she knew. There was still one thing she was curious about though. "Y-you said in your dream you were fighting someone... a-and when I examined you, it was almost like there was someone else in there..."

"Oh... _her_..." Imoen said disdainfully.

"Her?" Aerie was surprised. "I... I-I thought it would be... Bhaal. Or, Bhaal's essence..."

"It is, I think... but, it had some of my personality as well... but, twisted."

"I-is that normal?"

"Don't know. Haven't exactly been able to compare notes with any other 'spawn'... Whenever I bump into one it tends to end with them trying to cut my head off with a big sword while screaming 'there can be only one!' I was never aware of it before... maybe it was something Irenicus did... maybe I was so scared in there that it 'thought' it had to take drastic measures to try and save itself."

"But... i-if it was Bhaal w-wouldn't it want to try to carry out his plan to get resurrected. Why did it say it wanted your body?"

"Maybe by taking on some of my traits it became a whole new entity... half me, half Bhaal. Maybe... it wants to live. Or maybe I was just going mad... I just don't know. You put it back where it belongs so it's all okay now, right?"

"I... y-yes," Aerie of course didn't really know. None of her books talked about how the essence of a dead God might manifest itself in his children. She just told Imoen what she thought she needed to hear.

"Good. Now... what do you do for fun around here?"


	5. Ch 4: The Lady, The Witch and The Bard

**Out Of The Shadows**

**Chapter Four:**

**The Lady, The Witch & The Bard**

The Flaming Fist headquarters in Baldur's Gate was a large, stone, keep-like structure that was home to the largest mercenary organisation on Faerun, and the buildings powerful presence in the city served to remind everyone of that. Led by Duke Eltan, one of the rulers of that city, they were contracted to enforce the city's law and preserve the peace and so were the closest thing to any sort of policing institution throughout most of the Sword Coast. Still hiring mercenaries to do that sort of thing, rather than people who were in it for their own principles and actual desire to protect the innocent, tended to mean that a large number of Flaming Fist officers were not as vigilant as they should be. And it was their lack of vigilance that had really annoyed the young priestess-in-training. She stomped up to the door of the large ominous building, striking her staff (which was a good foot taller than her) on the ground with each step, and opened it. It was only when she had that one of two guards stood outside turned to her.

"Hey!" He shouted. "You can't just go in there..." Tenya scowled and flashed her dark eyes at him from under the hood of her blue and green cloak. "Oh, er... didn't realise it was you, Miss Thermidor," the other guard sniggered, then yelped in surprise as Tenya Thermidor suddenly spun round and had her staff held just below his chin.

"_What?_ What is funny? Tell _me!_" She demanded.

"Um, no... I-I was just remembering a joke I heard last night," the guard back tracked desperately. Tenya's eyes narrowed threateningly.

"Tell me the joke," she glared.

"Oh... it was, er... oh! There were these two Giants and an Orc, and one of the Giants says to other one, 'can't we have beef for dinner tonight?' And the other Giant says, 'Just shut up and eat yer greens.' Y'see? Huh? Eat... e-eat your greens, he said... y'know, green like vegetables? Because... because the Orc has green skin," the girl kept glaring, not even blinking. "Well... I thought it was funny, anyway."

"Er, why don't you just go on in, Miss The... Tenya," the first guard said, in a desperate bid to save his friend from some extremely violent heckling. "Just try not to wreck the place, okay?"

Tenya huffed with a little stamp of her foot, and proceeded to march inside much to the relief of the guards. She saw no point in wasting time on those idiots and their witless prattle. She hadn't just come here on a whim; she had very important business to discuss with their leader. Inside, a number of the Flaming Fist mercenaries were milling around carrying polishing their swords and shields... not one of them doing the job they got paid for, the priestess noted bitterly.

"You there!" She yelled at a woman crossing her path. "Harlot!"

"Excuse me?" The woman turned, frowning with displeasure. "Do you even know what that word means, little girl? I am Officer Vai..."

"I care not," Tenya raised her snout away from the woman, "_you_ are a smelly, viscous, corn filled sack of excrement until _I_ declare otherwise. Now, take me to your leader... your so called 'Duke' Eltan."

"How _dare_ you give _me_ orders, you little harpy..."

"Vai!" An authoritive male voice called out. Their heads turned toward the end of the hall, and a regal looking middle aged man in a purple cloak and wearing a simple crown. Despite the regal dress, it was obvious he didn't just spend all his days feasting; beneath the get up he was clearly still very fit, active and healthy. "I will handle this... follow me into my office, young initiate."

"Yes... yes sir!" Officer Vai saluted. Tenya swept past her, following the Duke up the stairs. But as she did she turned to the female Officer and hissed under her breath:

"I'll remember you... you better hope they don't send you anywhere on a boat anytime soon." The Officer gawped at the girl's back until she had disappeared from sight.

A priestess of Umberlee, even one who was only in training, commanded respect from people, especially in a port city where many of them depended on good weather and calm conditions for their livelihoods. Of course, the truth was the priestesses could only affect weather in a very limited way; mostly it was entirely up to the whims of the Bitch Queen herself whether the seas stayed calm, which the clerics had no control over. Still, the feeble minded masses believed that by paying proper respect, making offerings and performing silly little rituals they could influence the outcome of something that was almost completely random. The real magic there was how easily people convinced themselves of nonsense.

But she was about to meet Duke Eltan; a man who had attained such a lofty rank wasn't likely to be so easily swayed by superstition. He dismissed the guard from inside his office and sat down behind his desk, while Tenya remained standing.

"You storm into the building, insult my officers... I presume your matron must have sent you here on some very important business," he said, leaning forward on the desk and joining his hand in a pyramid.

Tenya remained stone faced and composed, although she had not in fact been sent by anybody. This was a... personal matter. And as such she didn't have to explain it to him.

"Imoen," she said, simply.

"Yes?" He said, raising an eyebrow. "What about her?"

"She has been missing for a tenday and _you_ still have not found her! What _have_ you been doing?"

"What interest are her whereabouts to you?"

"I want to see her!" Tenya snapped, and then bit her lip.

"You?" He leant back. "So this is not official business, then?"

"It's," she gritted her teeth. He would find out soon enough anyway, so there was little point deceiving him now. Besides, there was no way he was making her leave. "It's not that care if she's alive or dead, of course. She just... she saw something she shouldn't have and I need to make sure she doesn't go blabbering about it to anyone. If my superiors or anyone else found out..."

"You were the one involved in the incident at the warehouse, yes?" He sighed. "The Temple of Umberlee commands a lot of fear and respect amongst the citizenry here, but even the High Priestess is aware of a need to walk a fine line in politics. Umberlee may be untouchable, but her servants are not. I imagine your superiors punished you quite severely for that ruckus?" Tenya winced slightly. "Imagine how much more displeased they will be about this."

Very, she knew. They would probably beat her and then put her inside a crate on a ship bound for other side of the world. But she didn't care anymore. She didn't want or need any of them. All she needed was Umberlee... although, admittedly, Umberlee wasn't all that she wanted.

"'Everything will be fine...' That's what she said," Tenya repeated under her breath. "Where is she?"

"We don't know where Imoen is," Eltan explained, "we haven't found her, because, we haven't been looking."

"Not looking?" Tenya said with an astonished gasp, "the heroes who saved this worthless city vanish, and you do not even look for them?"

"We searched the rooms they had been staying in at the palace, but we found no evidence of any foul play. Mercenaries and adventurers, they're used to leading very active lives. It's possible they just became restless and left of their own accord."

"But you don't know!"

"They are grownups, and well able to look after themselves. There are still bandits out there, and other criminals, so unless there is a compelling enough reason to believe something is amiss our resources are better spent pursuing those. Even if I wanted to begin a search, we have no hint of where to begin looking. I'm sorry. Now, will you leave quietly or am I going to have to send for one of your superiors?"

"Fine," Tenya stiffened her jaw, barely able to stop herself from attacking. "I... I will find her myself!"

* * *

Unfortunately Tenya was now learning that it really was often far easier to say you were going to do something than it was to actually do it. She had no idea where to begin looking for Imoen either. For several hours she wandered forlornly along various rat infested streets... she didn't know why. She supposed she thought that maybe some thought or inspiration would come to her, or maybe she would spot a clue by chance. She didn't, and after a while her legs started to ache. And it was starting to get dark.

There was one of those taverns or inns nearby that 'adults' seemed to enjoy so much. She didn't see why; they were smelly, noisy places and all she ever got when she'd been inside them was a headache. Still, she needed a place to sit down for a few minutes, and being a member of The Water Queen's House should allow her entry, despite how young she was.

As she approached the entrance she noticed a woman, not more than ten years her elder, stood by the corner of the building wearing just a bra and one of those long slit skirts... didn't she know it would get cold at night? People were so stupid.

"Ahh... a young Umberlant here," the fat barkeep managed to turn his initial surprise into a smile as the young teenager approached him. "What... what can I get you?"

Tenya looked around the Inn; the usual assortment of brainless, grinning idiots talking and talking but saying nothing of any value that she imagined was always the norm for such places.

"What is he drinking?" She said, pointing to a half-elven man that she judged from his clothes to be a slightly better class of individual to everyone else here who was sipping something from a goblet. "I want that."

"Well that's... that's wine," the bar man chuckled nervously, "I can't serve you wine."

She glared at him.

"C'mon... the fist'll close me down if they hear I'm serving drinks like that to little girls..."

She glared.

"Look... maybe I can mix just a little bit with some apple or grape juice, huh? Please?"

"Fine," Tenya sighed, "if it will stop you from dripping sweat all over me, I suppose I can acquiesce to some of your social norms. I want grape juice."

"Right," he grinned, obviously not having understood what she'd said. "I'll be right back then." He returned just a moment later, putting a cup down in front of the girl filled with some red liquid. "That'll be..."

She glared.

"... i-it's on the house. You have a lovely evening, miss."

Tenya made her way through the crowds of people who had gathered around the bar, until she found an empty table. Some of the people had been watching her when she came in, but they seemed to have all lost interest now. While they all resumed their inane chatter with each other, she was sat staring at three empty seats and her mug, which she didn't touch for quite a while. When she did, at least the drink was not completely unpleasant. She thought she would have preferred just apple juice on its own, though... she had tried wine and beer and other alcoholic beverages before. She didn't see why people liked them; they tasted terrible.

This was stupid, she thought to herself. She hated Imoen. Why should she feel sad that the redhead was gone? She should be grateful that the only person who had ever seen a weakness in her was gone, hopefully for good. Imoen was gormless, idle, cheerful, nice... friendly. Nowhere in Umberlee's teaching did it say you could never hug someone, did it?

But Imoen was gone. Tenya would have no choice but to return to the temple soon and face the other initiates who perceived she might be losing favour... she would not lose to any of them, obviously. But if she somehow did, she supposed it wouldn't matter. She had nothing here now anyway. Just to finish her drink, and then leave.

"A bottle of your most expensive wine, my good man," That voice... Tenya knew that voice. She'd heard it the last time she'd seen Imoen. "And please, keep the change."

Tenya craned her neck around to look at the bar, and there was Eldoth Kron looking rather a lot better than he had been that night, evidently having traded his hemp for much finer fabric. He had placed a large gold coin on the counter, and was pushing it across with his finger.

"Is this real?" The barman squinted as he picked up the coin between his thumb and finger.

"The last one proved to be genuine, did it not?" Eldoth said with his trademark slimy smile, "and the one before that as well. You know I would never cheat my friends."

"Aye, they all did all right... but where are you getting it from? Just a tenday ago I was wondering what excuse you'd be coming up with next for not paying your rent."

"Would you believe... catalogues? No? I'm afraid a good tradesman can't reveal his secrets," Eldoth winked. One of the female employees arrived then with a very tall bottle of wine, like she'd just been waiting for him to come in and order it.

"Hey," the barman's face lit up as realisation dawned, "did... did you actually manage to sell one of your plays?"

"I am contractually obliged to say nothing," Eldoth leaned across the counter and whispered conspiratorially. "You never know if there are any copycats present, but... keep your eye out for new productions in the coming year and for a certain charmers name in the credits."

"Ahh... so now I got a real thespian staying here," the barman beamed, but Eldoth shushed him. "Sorry. Hey... maybe, when the time comes of course, you could give little readings and performances in the tavern here. I... might even let the rent thing slide for a bit, eh?"

"It always warms my heart to see someone with such entrepreneurial spirit. Perhaps we can talk, later. I must rush out to attend to a little other business first."

"Well of course... I'll be here when you get back."

"Good man. Here," Eldoth put another gold coin on the counter, "buy yourself some mints."

With that the bard took the bottle, bowed and then left, cooling everyone with the breeze he created with his cloak as he spun about. The barman was about to pick up the other coin, when a small hand clamped itself under his wrist, the divine strength temporarily granted by Umberlee allowing Tenya to hold his arm still while she picked up the gold piece with her other hand.

"This is an Amnian coin," she stated.

"Solid gold is what it is," the barman winced, "I mean... it's not wrong to take them. I-is it?"

"How long has he been staying here?"

"Few months. Him and his bird, that Skie Silvershield, have got a room upstairs. She's probably in it now... doesn't seem to go out much, poor dear."

"And he had only been paying with these the last tenday?" Tenya confirmed. He nodded. "Show me their room," she glared, and he had to obey.

* * *

Skie was indeed alone in her and Eldoth's room, lying on her back in the dark. As she lay on the pillows she felt the necklace he had given her recently with a little dove at the end made of solid gold. Not stolen either; it was brand new. She'd seen the receipt. But... how? Where had he suddenly got all this money from? She didn't believe any of his stories about selling a play; none of his plays were that good. Or that he was teaching the heirs of the city's elite how to give speeches and dress to impress... no, the idea of Eldoth as a trend setter just didn't wash, as he rarely did either. He was convinced that his body odour was like a pheromone for attracting women.

She hadn't had the courage to make him tell her... maybe she was afraid of finding out what kind of bad people he was involved with. If he was of course; it was just as likely that there was a perfectly sensible, normal explanation, even though she couldn't think of any. Maybe he was just waiting for the right time...

There was a knocking at the door. No-one had ever knocked before. Skie sat up in her bed and looked at it curiously... it couldn't be Eldoth. He never knocked and she wasn't expecting him back so soon. It knocked again; her heart quickened as all sorts of scenarios started running through her mind. Was it the Flaming Fist? Had they come to tell her that her boyfriend was a wanted murderer who was going to be hanged along with any of his accomplices. Or was it someone from her father, come to drag her back to his estate and make her prostrate herself as she asked for his forgiveness? It knocked a third time.

"Er... who... who is it?" She asked meekly.

"Um, Miss?" It was the innkeeper. "There's, uh, someone who wants to see you. Are you decent? Can they come in?"

Oh Gods... that did not sound good. Skie was dressed in just her nightie. Maybe there was just enough time to quickly grab something and jump out the window...

But there wasn't. Her hesitation in replying evidently caused whoever it was to get tired of waiting... the wood cracked, splintered and burst suddenly as the door was forcefully opened. And there was a girl, about thirteen years of age, with a black bob hairstyle holding a staff and dressed like a priestess of Umberlee. That, Skie had to admit, hadn't been any of the things she she'd been expecting.

"Here, you'll have to pay for that!" The Innkeeper poked his head around the remains of the doorframe. The girl turned her head, giving him a fearsome stare. Despite her diminutive stature something in the girl's dark eyes just suggested power. "It is... just a bit of wood I suppose. I gotta get back to the bar. See you!" He scurried away.

"You are Skie?" The girl asked. The young brown haired woman nodded. The waveservant pointed her staff at her, using the end of it to lift up the chain around Skie's neck. "That is a very nice necklace. By any chance, was it given to you by the walking flypaper they call Eldoth Kron?"

Skie nodded again, more slowly.

"And I don't suppose you know how he got it?"

"He... he said he got a job with some rich merchant..."

"And do merchants around here usually pay in Amnish coin?"

"I..." Skie closed her eyes. When she opened them again she had managed to compose and gotten over her initial shock. "What's it got to do with you? Get out of my room, you little brat!" Skie batted away the stick and threw a pillow, which the priestess just managed to block before it hit her face.

"I-I saw him!" The girl snarled. "He was with them!"

"With who?" Skie asked, while throwing another pillow. "What in the name of Ao are you talking about?"

"Imoen and the others! On the night they disappeared, he was there! He had wine, and he took them somewhere outside of the city. And now they are gone, but he is not. And suddenly he is a lot richer too... I think these things cannot be coincidence."

Skie paused, with a third pillow in hand. She would only have one more after that.

"No," the young woman said, shaking her head vigorously. "No... t-that's impossible. He never said anything to me... he... he wouldn't have sold... no..."

"I do not lie," the girl snarled again.

"Just... just get out!" Skie shouted, throwing the pillow; the force of it this time actually did knock the girl back a bit. "How _dare_ you!" The young woman snapped and flailed desperately for words that would silence this brat. "Do you _know _who I am? Who my _father_ is? _I_ could have you executed!"

"I know you _were_ Skie Silvershield," the girl looked up and smiled wickedly, "but your family disowned you because you ran away with that man, and you had dreams of becoming an adventurer. But _now_ look at you... shut away in this room like an old rocking horse, just to be played with when it suits your owner. Still, maybe it's not too late... maybe if you run back to daddy and beg him enough, tell him what a stupid girl you've been, he'll take you back. Maybe... or maybe you could try not being a spineless wimp."

"I..." Skie paused again, her brown eyes focusing inward. This wasn't how she'd expected her life would be, no. She wasn't sure how it had become this way... she'd always known Eldoth was no knight, but she'd trusted him. She went on trusting him. Was she just stupid to believe that people could become better? And then there was that drawer over there... it contained lockpicks, a dagger, a small crossbow, a suit made of dark leather. She hadn't opened that drawer in months... maybe now it was time.

"You... you are mistaken," Skie said, still unwilling to believe that even Eldoth could be so heinous. "You have to be. There has to be some other explanation. I don't know how he got the money... but, I think I know where to find out. He has a safe in a building next to the docks. I followed him to it, once."

"Hmph... won't we need a key?" The priestess asked.

"He keeps the key with him," Skie said, opening the drawer. "But I should be able to pick it, no problem. Just give me a few minutes to get dressed."

* * *

The building was deserted when they got there and locked down for the night, but Skie got them in through the back door without much difficulty. There was a man guarding the inside of the building, but with Umberlee's blessing Tenya knocked him out with equal ease using her staff. There were rows of safes inside, but Skie already knew which one they wanted. Although her skills were slightly rusty, she managed to get through all the tumblers and have it open within just a few minutes.

The light from the little lamp Tenya held glinted off the several bags filled with gold. But what they were interested in right now were the papers, letters and other correspondence.

"Well?" Tenya asked impatiently after Skie had pored over them for a few more minutes. The woman's face had turned more and more sour with each new page she read.

"It... it can't be," Skie shook her head again. "He can't have..."

"What?" The priestess demanded even more impatiently.

"He... he was contacted by someone. They asked if he could lead 'the Bhaalspawn' out of the Ducal Palace to a place outside of the city, and drug her and all her companions, if they were with her."

"Who asked?"

"I... I don't know. There's just an initial, 'B'."

"You see? Your boyfriend is treacherous scum. He should have his spleen unplugged and his intestines pulled out and used to hang him with."

"And are you going to try to do it, little girl?" Both the girl and the young woman froze suddenly.

"Eldoth!" Skie gasped.

Tenya spun on her heel, swinging her staff at him... but she hadn't had time to petition her goddess for any extra power this time. He caught the staff in one hand, and punched her in the jaw with the other. The girl literally went flying, colliding with the unopened safes which knocked all the breath out of her. She then lay still and motionless on the floor.

"Eldoth!" Skie gasped again, going glassy eyed. "How... how could you!"

"I saw you leaving with the little bitch priestess here, and thought I had better follow you in case you were in danger," Eldoth explained, shaking his own head slightly. "I was not expecting you to come here. You must have followed me before, hmm? That was very dishonest of you, my dear... it pains me to think you don't trust me."

"What have you done, Eldoth?"

"What I've done all my life, my dear. I was presented with an opportunity and I took it. It's over now; you don't have to worry."

"Don't have to worry? You betrayed your own comrades!"

"'Comrades' is too strong a word... they were never any more than acquaintances."

"Where have they gone? What's going to happen to them?"

"I don't know... Athkatla, I think. As to what will happen to them there, as I've kept telling you my dear, ask no questions if you don't want to be told any lies. Look," he surged forward suddenly, taking her by the hand, kissing it. "I've booked us passage on board a ship... soon all this will be behind us, and we'll be able to begin a new life. Whatever sins we may have committed in the past will be left here."

"How... how could you," Skie repeated, openly crying now and hanging her head in shame.

"I'm sorry, my dear... there is just one little thing I need to take care of quickly and then I'll be right back with you."

Tenya was slowly pulling herself across the floor on her belly, trying to reach her staff. She almost had it, when Eldoth put his foot down on her hand and then ground and twisted it, grinning with delight as he heard the bones crack. Then he kicked her hard in the belly, so that the priestess was on her back looking up at him as she grimaced and gasped for breath.

"Stop it Eldoth!" Skie yelled, completely horrified. "She's just a girl!"

"Only just," he sneered, "she won't be able to keep using that excuse for much longer," and then turning to the priestess, he pulled his sword from its sheath. "I don't why you thought this was any of your business, but you should have stayed in The Water Queen's House. Now it's time for you to exit this drama..."

Eldoth raised his sword preparing to thrust it down through the girl's chest. At the moment he had raised his arm to its maximum height, his body jerked suddenly and his eyes went wide with shock. His arm flopped down, dropping the sword to his side. He turned around dizzily, feeling the poison dart in his back. He reached out to Skie, surprised and confused, and then fell on his face completely unconscious.

"I told you to stop," Skie said flatly, lowering the small crossbow she held.

Tenya struggled to her feet and then, screaming angrily, she stamped on and kicked Eldoth's head again and again while Skie watched on, emotionless. Eventually however, she did step forward and put an arm on the young waveservant's shoulder.

"That's enough, I think," the young woman said. Tenya stopped immediately and took some deep breaths.

"Yes," she agreed, "we cannot kill him, yet. I imagine his former comrades would like to see him first." Tenya cupped her hand over the other one that was injured, wincing slightly as her prayers caused the bones to snap back into their original place. "What are standing there for?" She then said to Skie. "Bind him, quickly! Others at the temple are bound to be wondering where I am... we must leave the city as soon as possible."

"Leave?" Skie blinked. "Where are we going?"

"Athkatla, of course. Weren't you listening? That's where he said Imoen was."

"Right... of course. Will we be taking a ship?"

"I..." Tenya closed her eyes and thought for a moment. "Umberlee has not abandoned me, but I'm not sure how much in her favour I am at the moment. It might be better to go by land."

"We'll need help to get all the way to Athkatla, especially if we've got to bring him in tow."

"We have his gold, now. We can hire mercenaries to guard him."

"Hmm... you can't just trust any mercenary."

"So what do you suggest?"

"Its been a while since I've heard anything from them, or them me," Skie thought out loud, "but, I think I might be able to locate a few people who would be willing to help us rescue Imoen."


	6. Ch 5: The Child of the Feather

**Out Of The Shadows**

**Chapter Five:**

**The Child of the Feather**

'Fun' wasn't exactly what Imoen wanted right now. After all that had happened, losing Dynaheir and Khalid, she wasn't yet in the mood to start enjoying herself. But after being in that prison for... she had no idea how long. For all she knew people outside would be wearing silver suits and instead of walking they got around in floating armchairs. There were a few speculative books she'd read in Candlekeep about what life would be like in the future, and it seemed that what everyone considered to be the absolute zenith of all technological and magical achievement was making things float in the air; people, armchairs, houses, horses, pets... although she was reasonably certain that much time hadn't passed yet and most things were still bound by gravity. In any case, after being in that stinking sewer so long she wanted to get outside into the fresh air and clear her head.

However her question, 'what do you do for fun around here', seemed to have the blonde haired Elf, Aerie, stumped.

"This is a Circus, right?" Imoen dimly remembered tents and noted the posters on the wall. "There must be lots of fun stuff. The whole point of a Circus is for people to have fun; people come here to forget all the boring and bad stuff in their lives."

"Maybe they do," Aerie said, clearly a little bit disturbed by what Imoen had said. "But, I-I have to work here. T-that gets rather... boring. I'm afraid I don't really have much fun."

"So, what do you do when you want to relax?" Imoen asked; she was already forgetting her own desire to be out and about and becoming more and more interested in the Elf.

She wasn't sure what to make of Aerie. The Elf was very pretty, with her long fair hair and fair skin and big blue eyes... very big eyes in fact. The biggest eyes Imoen had ever seen, at least twice the size of her own grey ones. But as well as being very pretty, Aerie was also very nice, clearly; she had sat through all of Imoen's life story and managed to feign interest throughout. Being both very nice and very pretty would be grounds enough for most people to despise Aerie, as such a combination would be seen as totally unfair, but it actually got worse. Aerie was pretty and nice, _and_ she was smart too.

What the Elf had done to diagnose and then 'cure' Imoen; that took more than just a really good knowledge of magic and theories. Imoen had such knowledge too; with Dynaheir she had learned to cast spells, memorising pages of words and gestures from old scrolls and spell books that had been written down centuries ago and tried and tested many, many times since. Imoen was extremely good at remembering and at working out quantities of whatever alchemical material might be required for a spell to work. But it was all a rather mechanical process. If you asked her to invent a whole new spell in five minutes utilizing only the meagre resources available in this caravan... she couldn't do that. That required a brain that was not only able to store an impressive amount of knowledge but had the wisdom or intuition to be able to use that knowledge and to see connections between things that people never knew were connected before.

Imoen got the feeling though that most people who met Aerie never realised how smart she really was. Lots of the really clever people Imoen had known throughout her life were not exactly rousing public speakers, but she got the feeling that there was more going on with Aerie than her just being an introverted book worm type. Imoen, however, wasn't in the habit of making assumptions about people and was of the opinion that whenever you really got to know and understand someone you couldn't help but like them. Well, maybe not some people... like Irenicus. But Aerie was nice and hadn't imprisoned or tortured her, and those were the most important things.

"Ehm... u-u-usually when I finish my chores for the day, I just come back here to study and read my books," the Elf explained.

"Well that doesn't sound like fun," Imoen said curtly. The Elf slowly looked up, eyes slowly widening in shocked horror.

"Oh, but b-books are fascinating, a-and exciting and fun," Aerie said, opening her chest of books in order to refute Imoen's claim. "T-this one is a map of the entire world," she handed the thick heavy tome over to Imoen who randomly flipped through some of the pages.

"Here be beasties... _here_ be beasties. And, what's over here? Ahh... beasties. Pretty accurate map, I'd say."

"Heh," Aerie giggled. Imoen noticed quite a change in her, now that she was talking about her books. She suddenly became a lot brighter and was starting to look and sound more confident. Imoen knelt beside the Elf, nodding and smiling as the blonde handed her one book after another and explained what they were. "This one tells you about all the creatures that live around The Sword Coast, and this one has detailed drawings of all sorts of things Gnomes and other people have invented. This one is about the language of Bee's... I've not really had much use for that, but it's interesting. And this one is one of my favourite stories about these adventurers who discover a long lost land ruled over by a race of intelligent Guinea Pigs who make Elves and Humans run through dangerous mazes all the time."

Aerie's chest of books wasn't quite Candlekeep, but it was still an impressive and varied collection for someone who lived in a caravan. Imoen used to love reading when she was much younger; when she was a little bit older though she rebelled a little against all those stuffy old monks who tried forcing her to read every day. She'd had more important things to do, like chasing boys around with a bit of slime in a jar. She didn't get why the monks swallowed absolutely everything that was written down in ancient tomes, like you just couldn't argue with them because they were _books_, and they were _old_. There's no way you can argue with an old book; they've got to be right because they were written a really long time ago. They're old books, see?

Still, despite all that ever so subtle irony, Imoen did come to realise that there was valuable knowledge in some books, even old ones. About the time she realised that her dinky dagger wasn't a great weapon for taking on Wyverns with and she started to learn magic from Dynaheir, so that she wouldn't be completely useless to all her friends in a fight anymore... although she still hadn't been able to help Dynaheir much, had she?

"What's that one?" Imoen shook her head, trying not to think too much about the old and about the new instead. She pointed out what looked to be a more recently published book in Aerie's collection.

"Heh... Chiktikka Fastpaws stories," Aerie said with a soft smile, "U-uncle Quayle wrote them down for me."

"That mischievous little Raccoon who hangs around with Baervan Wildwanderer?" Imoen remembered studying her faith's and pantheons. The name 'Quayle' rang a bell too, but she didn't ask about it. Probably lots of Quayles in the world, after all. "Gnomish God of travel and nature, right? Why's an Elf care about those?"

"A-an Elf can't have an interest in things that aren't elven? I-I think there are things all the races can learn from eachother," Aerie shrugged, "b-besides, Quayle used to tell me these Fastpaw's stories when I was... hm, w-when I was sad. I know they're for children, really, b-but they still cheer me up, sometimes. I-I like the way Chiktikka is always teasing and playing tricks on all the Gods and always having fun. Hehe... I think my favourite was the time he gave Talos wind by tricking him into eating a rotten egg."

Imoen noticed the little twinkle in Aerie's eye as she recounted some of Chiktikka Fastpaw's mischief... there was hope for this one, she thought. She suddenly saw Aerie as a bold and adventurous little girl. Something must have happened to change her... make her subservient and conforming. But there was still a spark left; it just needed to be nourished.

"You're right, Aerrers," Imoen said, quickly standing up again, "books are really, really great. What I meant was though is that it's not fun you can have with other people. You forgotten you got a guest here? What am I supposed to do while you've got your nose stuck in those, you gudgeon?"

"I'm sorry," Aerie sagged and sighed slightly, "I-I'm not used to having guests."

"Yeah... you somehow didn't strike me as the type to host dinner parties."

"B-besides myself and Quayle, y-you're the only person who has ever been in here... well, t-there was a man who came in once, b-by accident I think. I think he was a builder... he asked me if he could leave his really big tool in my box. Although I don't remember him carrying anything, or any building going on outside... "

"Right," Imoen blinked; she couldn't tell if Aerie was joking or not. She hoped to the heavens that she was. "We'll... talk about that later."

"Uncle Quayle made him leave, anyway."

"Who's this 'Uncle Quayle'?"

"Oh... h-he said he knew you. That you'd gone to explore Durlag's Tower together."

"Hmm... old Gnome, wears eyeglasses, claims he was the first person in history to learn how to walk?" Imoen remembered him. She didn't remember him saying he had an adopted niece, but then Quayle seemed rather typical of a lot of Gnomes; a genius in many ways, but a little bit scatter minded and eccentric.

"Heh... yes, that does sound like him."

"It's great we don't slither around on our bellies anymore, but how is he your 'Uncle'?"

"We're not really related, of course, but he's taken care of me for a while and so I just call him my uncle. He seems to like it, I-I guess because he doesn't have any real family."

"What about your family? Where are they?"

"They're," Aerie paused, closing her eyes as if trying to picture something but the image seemed to trouble her. "T-they're far away."

"I'm sorry," Imoen knelt beside the Elf again, seeing the sadness in her eyes. She placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Did... did you lose them?"

"No... i-it's not like that," Aerie shook her head, "I... I know where they are, roughly. They're alive, I think. But I... I can't go back there."

"Why not?"

Aerie opened her eyes and scrutinised Imoen very carefully for a moment; no doubt trying to decide whether or not to trust her.

"I suppose... you told me eveything, so I-I should tell you where I'm from" Aerie spoke at last, slowly nodding her head as she made her decision. "I'm Avariel... a-a winged elf," she announced, and then quickly wiltered under Imoen's stare. She probably thought that Imoen doubted her, but in fact the redhead had suddenly remembered something someone else had said...

"The child of the feather..." Imoen whispered. But... no. It had to be a coincidence, didn't it? There was no way Tenya could really have seen the future in the guts of a rotten fish.

"I... I-I suppose you want to know what happened to my wings?" Aerie sighed resignedly.

"Well... I guess that is kind of the next logical question, yeah."

"They were cut off... a-a long time ago. I-I was captured and brought here by slavers. They kept me locked in a tiny cage where I could hardly move, even if I wanted to. My wings became infected... t-they had to be amputated or they would have killed me. And, well, t-that's what happened to them."

"I... I read about Avariel before," Imoen said, "I didn't think they actually existed."

"I'm one, so we do... a-at least, I know I exist, anyway. I remember flying over the mountains with the whole world rolled out beneath me... s-sometimes now I do worry that it might have all just been a dream. B-but it is true... y-you can ask Quayle if you want, or any of the others that work in the circus. Anyway," Aerie folded her arms, "i-its no more ridiculous than your story."

"No, I guess not," the redhead laughed. Aerie was already getting more comfortable talking to Imoen, it seemed, and the Elf, or Avariel, made a lot more sense to Imoen now. Slavers; she'd heard Jaheira tell stories of what she and other Harpers had found when they'd raided slaver camps before, the methods they used there to make slaves compliant. They tried to shock people into conformity, by basically traumatising all their sense of self out of them. Rather like a soldiers training camp, only there were no restraints on the methods of torture used and no one had the option of dropping out, unless it was dropping out dead.

Aerie seemed so... so soft, and gentle that it was hard to imagine her living through all that. Maybe a part of Imoen didn't want to believe that there were people capable of inflicting such cruelty on others. But she knew better; there were people not only capable, but eager and willing to.

"So is there no way for you to get them back? Your wings, I mean," Imoen asked.

"I... I-I've discussed it with Quayle many times, but... there doesn't seem to be any way," the blonde shook her head. "An Avariel's wings are a gift from our Goddess, and she only ever gives them once, it seems, s-so if we don't take care of them... she... she's hardly going to break the rules for me."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I-it's no one's fault, really, apart from my own. My parents always made me promise never to fly too far away from the city, b-because it would be dangerous on my own. I... I never listened."

"Well... you were a kid, weren't you?"

"That's precisely why I should have listened to them."

Well, maybe Aerie did have a point there, although clearly the slave traders and circus owners were a little bit responsible for what they did as well. Imoen suspected though that Aerie had spent a while convincing herself that she was actually the one responsible for everything. It was a neat way of coping, wasn't it? Making yourself believe, despite all of the facts, that you could have done something that would have changed the situation; that you still had control in some way. That's what she had been doing... but Aerie had been at it too long to have her mind changed about it right now.

"Anyway, why don't we go outside?" Imoen smiled softly, putting an arm round her new friend's shoulders. "You can show me around this circus of yours."

"It's really not my circus," Aerie said, "I can show you around though. But, i-is it safe? For you, I mean."

"I think so. Irenicus is gone, and those other fellas that attacked him got their butts pretty badly kicked. Only people who might still be looking for me are Minsc and Jaheira. She might knock me out again, but I doubt she'd hurt me any more than that... probably," in truth, Imoen was hoping to see the druid again, although she had no idea what she would say if she did. Sorry that she'd been stupid and ran away, she supposed. She supposed she wouldn't blame Jaheira either if she didn't blame her for Khalid, and had just left on her own. But she wanted air. She would have liked a bath too, but she doubted Aerie had a whole lot of luxuries like that. "C'mon kid, let's see what's out there."

* * *

It was a nice day, still. The sun would be starting to set soon, but for now it was still bright and it's rays reflecting off the white stone of The Promenade; according to Aerie an ancient coliseum that had been retrofitted to serve the Amnish people's love of coin. There were market stalls and shops set up beneath the steps, and also, for the time being at least, several circus tents and wagons. That was a lot of activity; people carrying things to and fro, large and small animals chattering, braying and trumpeting. The Circus people were busy preparing for a show that night. Aerie said it was best not to disturb any of them while they were rehearsing and getting things ready; they tended to get a bit tetchy at this time. There was no sign of Jaheira, or Minsc and he was usually pretty easy to spot even when he was being stealthy like a crab. So she supposed they must have left to ensure those wizards had disposed of Irenicus properly.

But that was all fine. Imoen just wanted to stretch her legs, inhaling the refreshing, cool air. Okay, so in a city like this the air was never all that fresh, with waste littering the streets and the nearby river polluted with it as well. She wondered sometimes if it was really a good idea in these modern cities for people to drink the same water they dumped their rubbish into. But compared to actually being in a sewer, this was nice. Eventually though, she couldn't resist the lure of some of the stalls and games set up outside.

"You sure those coconuts aren't nailed on?" Imoen inquired of Aerie after a disappointing performance. They'd stopped to rest a short distance from the coconut stand, sitting upon the ground.

"I-I'm pretty sure," the Elf shrugged, "t-to be honest, I'm not really involved in setting these games up that often. I suppose you can't make them too easy. Y-you want people to win just often enough so that they keep spending more... s-same as in the gambling tent."

That made sense, Imoen supposed. Anyway, she had a string of luck on all the other games, like Whack-An-Imp. Wasn't much fun for the Imp as it had failed to avoid all her hammer blows, but she'd got a toffee apple out of it. Really a case of no pain, no gain. She'd also won a huge stuffed bear which she decided to call Donald, avoiding any of the really cliché and obvious stuff.

"There was a small Circus that came to Candlekeep once, when I was small," Imoen reminisced. "They had a Sea Lion that would do all these little tricks, like balance a ball on it's nose, jump through hoops, clap it's flippers and play the trumpet. You got a Sea Lion?"

"Er... n-no."

"Good. It seemed funny at the time but, showing that stuff to little kids can give them some pretty dangerously misleading ideas about what those animals are like, if you ask me. I've seen Sea Lions in the wild; they're really not friendly at all. They're very aggressive and territorial. You show up on their beach with a trumpet they'll clap their flippers alright... right around your skull, which they'll then sit on until you stop wriggling."

"Have you had a bad experience with Sea Lions?"

"I got chased over some rocks by a whole bunch of them once. It... it was pretty scary."

"I see," Aerie stepped closer, putting a hand gently on Imoen's shoulder. "Did... d-did they hurt you?"

"It's not funny, Aerie. A whole raft of Sea Lion's almost raped me," suddenly it all made Imoen genuinely feel quite bitter. Not just the Sea Lion incident, but everything... everything she'd been told her whole life was just a big pile of... pooh. "It's... just not right to lie to children."

Imoen pulled her knees in close to her chest and hid her head as a wave of sadness suddenly swept over her. She supposed she hadn't had a chance to be sad before now; she'd been too busy running for her life and then trying to get her bearings around here. But now she thought about Dynaheir; she'd been a bit like Aerie, in that she loved her books and was fascinated by absolutely everything. She believed that the more she learnt about the world, the better she would become. Maybe all Rashemi withes believed that and that was the point of the Dajemma – a journey they underwent to discover and prove themselves. Now she was never going home either. And Khalid; he'd took her around the Circus in Nashkell once. Bought her a load of stuff too, which really annoyed Jaheira who was of the opinion that at twenty years old Imoen was an adult, the old fussypants. It was like having one parent who was really strict and one who was a complete pushover; clearly the later was the one you went to whenever you wanted something, like pocket money. But Khalid would have protected her with his life. He did, and she just... and then all the other people she was never going to see again. Winthrop, Gorion... almost every person she had grown up with.

"Um... a-re you... are you okay?" Aerie leant forward, so that she was resting on her palms.

"Hey... don't worry about little old me. I'm fine," Imoen looked around, winking and grinning. But, judging by Aerie's face, the red rings beneath Imoen's wet eyes probably gave away what she had really been doing. The Elf looked sympathetic though. She had to be, of course. Imoen didn't know exactly what experiences Aerie had been put through by slavers and her masters here, but she knew enough to know that none of it would have been pleasant. And for an Avariel to lose her wings, her freedom and whole identity, and be cut off from her home and family... that had to be tough, too. Imoen realised she didn't have to put on any brave or happy face for Aerie's sake. She wasn't going to judge or make fun of her for showing a little weakness.

"Okay... that was a lie," the redhead admitted, "I'm not fine at all. I'm actually feeling pretty miserable."

"That's alright," Aerie straightened up, joining the ends of her fingers together. "You... you m-might find it hard to believe, but I get very sad sometimes too."

"Really?" Imoen said in mock surprise. The Elf smiled slightly.

"It's usually when I start thinking about my home and my parents, a-and them still being out there, somewhere. Sometimes I wish I could fly back to my mother's arms and, f-for everything to be like it was when I was a child."

"When I was a child," Imoen rubbed a bit under her eyes, "I was told I'd have a floating armchair and a flying bed by now... still waiting for those though. They also told me there were no really bad people, everyone was good inside, your friends will be your friends forever, and nature was filled with little animals just frolicking around in the woods having fun all the time. None of that was true. They're always fighting and killing, struggling for survival, sometimes even eating their own babies. Animals have it pretty rough sometimes as well. And then when you grow up all your friends either die or leave you... even so, I wish I was back home, in Candlekeep, with old Puffguts. I wouldn't go sneaking off again, either. I'd make all the beds, clean all the rooms properly, not hide anything under any of the rugs... I just... I want to believe it all again. I want to go back to when one summer lasted about a thousand years and the whole nasty rest of the world stayed out here."

"It... i-it can't all be bad," Aerie said, a little bit pleadingly. Poor thing probably hadn't seen much outside The Circus, and was desperate to believe there had to be something better. There wasn't. "There must be... m-must be something in the world that's... good..."

"Like what?"

"Like..." the Elf thought very hard for a moment. Imoen could almost see some tiny running around behind her blue eyes desperately trying to find some slither of hope to hold on to. And then it stopped, clearly believing it had found something. "L-like Bees."

"Oh, yes... Bees. I love it when they sting people to death."

"But, d-did you know that Bee's have their own language? W-when one of them finds food i-it can go back to the hive and tell the others about by doing a dance about it. Isn't that amazing?"

"It's... quite interesting, I suppose," Imoen said, although still not entirely convinced.

"I think it's amazing. I-I think there must be lots of wonderful, amazing things like that in the world, w-waiting for us to find out about them."

"So, how's this Bee dance go?"

"Oh... well," Aerie glanced side to side, making sure no one else was looking and then stood up. "T-they waggle, like this," she said with a wide smile as she leant forward and wiggled her bum. "A-and then they go round in little figure-eight motions like this," the Elf demonstrated by tucking in her arms and using just her hands to simulate the Bee's wings as she went round a few times. "You see?"

"I see you're wasted behind the scenes here," Imoen sniggered, "and I guess you had a use for that book after all, huh?"

"I... I-I don't know," Aerie said, sitting down again. "D-did it work?"

"Well... I'm still not as enamoured with the Bee's as you clearly are," the redhead beamed at the Elf, "but I guess if I'd never left Candlekeep, I'd have never seen you do that. Maybe the whole world isn't so nasty... I'll give it another chance."

"Good," the Elf was a little red, "because, i-it was embarrassing. I'd hate have to have done it for nothing."

"Awww, no. I am definitely going to copy that dance, and I'll expect you do it with me. But what about you, Aerie?" Imoen asked. The Elf looked up, confused.

"What... w-what about me?"

"What do you do here in the Circus?"

"Well... j-just little chores here and there, really. Tidying up, making sure the animals are fed and clean, and any other little thing that needs doing. S-sometimes I help Quayle to invent new tricks for the show... t-that's probably the most fun thing I do."

"But you feel like you're wasted."

"I... didn't say that, did I?"

"You didn't have to. It's natural enough; you are really smart, and a very good mage and healer. Of course you don't want to spend your whole life just tidying. You helped me, so you might be able to help lots of other people who need help too. And you've got books, and maps, but you don't just want to look at them. You want to go to the places on the map, and maybe places that aren't, find long lost lands, and maybe actually talk to some of the Bees. Does this all sound about right to you?"

"A... a-about right, yes," Aerie deflated herself.

"So why don't you do it?"

"I've... never left The Circus before. E-even though you say I'm 'smart', I-I just wouldn't know how to begin doing all that."

"I guess that is a problem," Imoen thought, although she didn't have to think for long. Tenya's words about the 'child of the feather' were still there, nibbling away. More importantly though, she really liked Aerie, and really wanted to do everything she could to help. "Come with me, then."

"What?" Aerie went wide with surprise. "R-really?"

"Sure. I mean, I'm pretty new around here too, but I'm sure together we could find our way around and see a few amazing and wonderful things."

"Oh... I... I-I'd love to. And Bentha did say... oh, b-but," the Elf's spirits were lifted for a second, but then they dropped down again. "Uncle Quayle would never let me go."

"So? You're a grown up... sort of. Just tell him you're leaving."

"I... I-I can't do that. He's been so good to me... i-if it wasn't for him there's no way I could even be thinking about leaving now. A-and, like I said before, he doesn't have any real family. He wants to pass everything onto me."

"Look, Aerie, making other people happy, that's a noble thing to try and do. But, if Quayle cared as much about you as you do about him, then don't you think he'd be happier if you were happy, and not spending the rest of your life doing something you obviously hate? You've got to tell him what you really want."

"Have you ever tried talking to my Uncle?" Aerie sighed. "H-he is a kind person, but he only hears things he wants to hear."

"Yeah, I remember. But, we can make him listen. C'mon, I'll help if you want. We'll tie his ears back if we have to and speak right into them using some kind of... trumpet like device. Actually, that's a terrible idea. Forget that one. But we will find a way."

"Not now," Aerie said, "w-we should wait until after the show... oh," she looked like she'd just remembered something. "It'll be starting soon... t-there's something I should check, just in case he forgot."

Imoen was just getting up to follow Aerie, when the two of them jumped in response to a thunderous bang that appeared to emanate from not very far away. They looked at each other's surprised and worried face, then moved hastily, yet cautiously, in the direction they perceived the noise had come from. It was the stink they encountered first, like rotting reptile flesh, and then noxious green vapours. It was centred around a fenced off area behind all the circus tents. Ducking behind some boxes, Imoen could see Quayle a short distance away. It was indeed the same Gnome she had travelled with before, and he was standing next to several other men, one of them wearing a long red coat; Imoen assumed he was the man in charge, or the ringmaster.

The centre of everyone's attention, however, seemed to be a much younger Gnome with black hair and a purple wizard's robe. This one didn't have the big nose or ears that were usually associated with these eccentric little folk, but in fact just like Halflings resembled half-size Humans, Gnome's resembled miniature Elves. It was just that the smaller species aged gradually throughout the many centuries that they lived. This particular Gnome wasn't much older than Imoen, relatively speaking anyway.

"Kalah," Aerie said, as if that were all the explanation that were needed.

"Well, that didn't exactly go according to plan, did it?" The Ringmaster said, waving his hand in front of his face to try and clear the air he needed to speak. Quayle held out his arms and began to chant, and seconds later the vapour appeared to get blown away by a sweet smelling breeze. "You had better not do that tonight," furious faces still encircled the young Gnome who stood as stiff as a blank with his face turned away from them. "We're supposed to be trying to fill all the seats, not fumigate them."

"Poor Kalah," Aerie said as she stepped out from the hiding place with Imoen, "h-he's been trying to learn magic for a long time. I-I think all the men in his family have been great magicians. The trouble... the trouble is, h-he's just got no talent for it."

"You got one more chance to impress me, Kalah," the Ringmaster said, a touch wearily. "Please don't burn down the whole Promenade.

"Fine," the young Gnome hissed, leaping eagerly behind a small table. "Prepare to be amazed, fools!"

"He's got to work on his catchphrases," Imoen said aside to Aerie.

In front of Kalah was a tin, into which he started tipping lots of rubbish, like some old pants and shoelaces and bits of paper, a boot, a knight's gauntlet...

"This is pretty easy to do," Imoen said, "he's just going to say some magic words and all that junk will turn into a nice sponge cake, right?"

"That's what's supposed to happen," Aerie said, covering her eyes.

Kalah said the magic words, and there was a little puff of magic... only, it was more than a puff. It was more like a Dragon sneezing out of a chimney. A huge plume of smoke and soot shot up from the tin, blasting Kalah back. He landed on his bum, completely blackened and stunned while everyone else, apart from Quayle and Aerie, began to point and laugh. And there was no cake anywhere, which was the thing that most disappointed Imoen.

"N... n-no," Kalah blinked as his head slowly pivoted. "That... that wasn't supposed to happen! Stop laughing!" He starting demanding; he might have been turning red but it was impossible to say for sure with all the soot covering him, but it was very clear that his eyes bulged when they came to rest on Quayle. "You! You did this! You... you sabotaged it somehow!"

"No, Kalah," Quayle sadly shook his head, "you've just got to keep practising, young man. We'll... we'll find something you can do, I'm sure."

"For tonight, you'll be Quayle's assistant, as usual," the Ringmaster said, "what am I saying? You'll always just be the assistant. Just keep doing exactly what he says and for the love of life, never try to do any magic again."

Kalah fell silent, staring miserably at his feet while the Ringmaster walked away. His obvious self-pity and annoyance only seemed to be encourage more laughter from those that remained; Imoen guessed that was the only reason they had gathered to see Kalah perform magic. The poor young Gnome was the only one not in on the joke. Only Quayle and Aerie seemed to feel the slightest bit sorry for him, the Avariel picking up a cloth and kneeling beside him to wipe the soot from his face.

"Y-you've just got to try and forget about everyone else," the blonde said, trying to smile encouragingly. "J-just focus on the spell..."

"Shut up!" Kalah screeched suddenly, pushing Aerie away and leaping up, wagging his finger accusingly at everyone. "You... you're all beasts! All of you! And _you_," his finger wagged towards Aerie, now lying on her back staring up at him in astonishment. "You're the worst beast of all, always pretending that you care. But it's lies! All lies! All... all my life... people laughed," he panted, slowly running out of steam. "Bah!" He stormed away, feet pounding heavily on the ground as he did, which was an impressive feat for someone only three and a half feet tall.

"What was that all about?" Imoen offered a hand to Aerie, pulling the Elf to her feet. With the 'show' over most of the rest of the crowd began to disperse and get back to whatever chores they had been doing before.

"H-he knows Quayle has been teaching magic to me," the blonde explained, "I...I-I guess it makes him jealous."

Imoen wasn't so sure; what she'd seen in that Gnomes didn't seem like it was mere jealously. It was more like hate. She supposed he was just angry that it had all gone so badly wrong.

"Well, is that young Imoen I see?" Quayle peered through his spectacles. The redhead turned to him with a broad grin, holding out her arms.

"How've you been, you old coot?" She greeted him. "You never told us you worked for any circus."

"Oh? I was sure I must have mentioned it. Or maybe I was too distracted by the geese dropping bombs on us. I must say I was hardly expecting to see you up and about so soon."

"Well, luckily there was a brilliant healer nearby."

"Oh... that's very nice of you to say," Quayle turned away shyly, "I don't remember really doing anything."

"Er... you didn't. I was talking about Aerie."

"Well, I taught her everything I know, so, you're welcome."

"Good to see you're still such a modest, humble old man, never taking credit for other people's work. Did you tell her about the time you invented horses?"

"Around the same time I invented sarcasm. Anyway, we clearly have a lot to catch up on but I'm afraid I have a lot of things to prepare. I'm sure Aerie will keep taking care of you until after tonight's show. We'll be able to talk more then."

* * *

Lurking in the shadows a short distance away, Kalah finished clearing the soot from his face as he glared at the wretched fool Quayle waving goodbye to that deceitful Aerie and some other Human girl he didn't recognise, who clearly didn't belong here. He looked around as if hearing something, and then his eyes came to rest on the ring he wore with a large red stone set into it. He covered it with his other hand which he lifted slightly, like a small boy who caught an insect.

"My Lord?" He whispered.

"Who is that girl with the red hair?" A voice that only he could hear asked of him.

"I don't know. I heard Quayle call her Imogen or something like that."

"Imoen?"

"Perhaps," Kalah shrugged. "It cannot be important, can it my Lord?"

"_Everything_ is important. Her presence here means we will have to advance our plans. You will have to do it tonight."

"Of... of course my Lord!" Kalah's eyes sparkled with glee. "I am fully prepared."

"Yes, well, there's very little chance even you could mess this up. Simply hold up the ring and say the word I taught. You sure you have no qualms with doing this to your colleagues?"

"Of course not, my Lord. Those disgusting beasts have brought it on themselves."

"Good. Then have your fun with them, Kalah. I would like tonight's show to be entertaining, for a change. But, do not toy with them too long. Do _not_ forget our bargain. This 'child of the feather' must never leave here alive."

* * *

Lashing and snarling, really big teeth and claws attached to muscular bodies and ferocious looking faces. Imoen had followed Aerie into one of the larger tents, but stayed very close to the entrance a she watched the beasts pacing about their cage.

"Ohh... _really_ big cats," the redhead warbled. "I think I'll stay back here. I don't like cats."

"I-I thought it was Sea Lions you didn't like," Aerie said, "not actual Lions."

"To be honest, I've just never got along with any animal," the daughter of Bhaal said. "I don't really believe that stuff about them having a sixth sense, but they just don't seem to like me for some reason. I'm great with kids though... Jaheira's always telling me I've got a natural affinity with infants," she said, putting down Donald and licking another toffee apple.

"Uh... huh."

"Where in the hells have you been?" A woman snapped. Imoen assumed she was talking to Aerie. The woman in question was stood in front of the Lion's cage, a long whip looped between her hands. Black hair, green eyes, and obviously was supposed to be dressed as some kind of Jungle Woman with just enough fur to make her acceptable for children, and no more.

"I-I'm sorry, Tira," Aerie bowed her head, "Uncle Quayle let me have the day off."

"_Uncle_ Quayle is not the Ringmaster here. My father is; you wait until he hears about this. And since your insipid Uncle hasn't shown up here yet, you had better sort that out," Tira nodded to the table with huge slabs of meat laid out on it. "And who is she?" The Jungle Woman pointed at Imoen.

"Imoen... s-she's just a guest of mine and my Uncle's. I was showing her around."

"Is that right?" Tira's ruby red lips twisted upwards into an unfriendly smile. "Well... come in then; come and meet my pets."

Imoen looked to Aerie, who shrugged apologetically before getting to work on the meat. The redhead stepped slowly away from the entrance, taking little tiny steps towards this Tira and the cage. The beasts inside didn't seem to be paying her any attention as she approached; they all had their eyes on the woman holding the whip.

"It's alright; come closer. Right up to the cage," the Jungle Woman goaded, "see, they're pussycats, really."

Imoen was getting pretty close to the Lion's now, and they were still just sat down with their mouths open and tongues hanging out. Maybe these ones really were harmless. She felt a tiny bit more confident and quickened her pace. Tira cocked her leg and put her hand beneath, still smiling. Imoen was almost right in front of cage when the Jungle Woman started tapping her foot... the Lion's roared suddenly, one of them trying take a huge swipe at the redhead through the bars. It was just out of reach, but Imoen instinctively fell backwards anyway.

"Yah!" Tira screamed, her whip uncoiling and lashing at the bars just in front of the beast, which retreated instantly. Flustered, Imoen retreated back to Aerie.

"Don't worry," the Elf smiled sympathetically, "s-she does that to lots of people."

"She must make a lot of friends," Imoen responded bitterly. "What are you doing?"

"Oh... t-the Lions have to be fed before going out. And I have to mix in some of these herbs that'll just make them feel a bit drowsy."

"Why?"

"I-I'll let you in on a secret. We don't get new Lions for her to tame every night. I-it's always these ones, a-and they're already tamed a-and trained. Did you see the way she was tapping her foot? That's what makes them roar and act all fierce."

"So, if they're already tame, why have you got to drug them?"

"Well... t-they are still beasts, a-and they sometimes don't take kindly to someone shoving a chair in their faces. There'll be no bars between them tonight."

"There isn't any way you could just lose some of the herbs, is there?" Imoen asked. Aerie's lips twitched a few times as she tried to resist a grin.

"I-I'm... not a beast."

"No," Imoen smiled. They'd treated Aerie like one but she'd beaten them, so far.

"Look at them," Tira sneered, slowly stepping backwards from the Lion's so that she could take them all in. "See how they cower from me? The 'King's' of The Jungle?"

"Um... L-lion's don't actually live in jungles," the Elf pointed out quietly.

"Shut up Aerie," the Lion tamer gritted her teeth, not looking behind her. "You stupid blonde... dummy... at least these creatures are smart enough to know who their Master is."

Tira kept stepping backwards, curling up her whip. Unfortunately, she had misjudged the distance that Aerie was behind her and ended up touching the Elf's bottom. Just that very small amount of contact, it seemed, was enough to make Tira explode.

"Get out of my way!" She screeched, pushing Aerie clear across the table and scattering the meat trays everywhere. Imoen shuffled backwards as well, stunned by the sudden eruption of violence. "You... you imbecile!" Tira spat at Aerie as the Elf lay on her chest. "You had better clear all this up!"

Aerie was grimacing, but then her eyes flashed angrily. With her body tensed, she sprung back up and stood in front of the other woman with her little fists tightly clenched. Clearly, a challenge. Tira took a small step back, eyes wide in astonishment, but she soon found her courage again. There were about five other people backing her up and making a ring around them.

"What?" Tira started taunting, her mouth twisting into an evil grin again. "You actually going to try something, Aerie? Go ahead... hit me. I'm begging you to... then my daddy will kick you out of here, leave you in a ditch to die like you should have been years ago."

Imoen clenched her fists too. This was totally unfair; Aerie couldn't use her magic because of the license thing in Amn, and physically it was obvious that just Tira alone was much stronger than her, yet alone the five henchmen and women who were already rubbing their hands eagerly. And the worst part was there were about a dozen other people in the tent just ignoring what was going on right in front of them... somebody should have the courage to do something. She should. But she didn't. Something held her back, and not just the fact that were six of them; she'd fought greater odds than that before. But her blundering in would only make a bad situation even worse, again. Wouldn't it?

Aerie began to notice the other five people as well, and then to resign herself to the fact that she had no realistic chance of winning in this situation either.

"I-I," the Elf began to say, swallowing her pride and bowing her head.

"Aye, aye? What, are you a pirate?" Tira mocked to several snort and chortles.

"I'm... sorry. Ma'am," Aerie said through her gritted teeth.

"You are that," Tira grinned triumphantly. "Come on... this little bints not worth it," she announced to her companions, turning away from the Elf who was trying to steady herself taking deep breaths.

"I'm sorry, Aerie... I..." Imoen didn't know what to say. She knew she should have helped, despite the odds, but... she'd seized up again.

"It's okay," the Elf sighed, picking up the table and starting to finish the job she had been doing. "Y-you're still not feeling better."

"No," Imoen agreed. At least she couldn't remember ever being like this before today. "Does this happen often?"

"Once or twice a day, usually. If... i-if I could just get Tira on her own."

"Well... even then, she is still a bit bigger than you."

"Don't care. S-she can beat me up as much as she wants, so long as I'd have a chance of her hitting her back as well."

"Not a whole lot of people with honour nowadays," Imoen sighed, trying to think of some way she could make up for her failure. "There... might be a better way of getting back at her. One that doesn't involve getting your arm broken."

"What do you mean?"

"Well... they're all off to do the show now, right?"

"Right."

"And I assume has her very own mobile home thing, right?"

"O-of course. Why?"

"Well, think about it Aerrers... what would your hero, Chiktikka Fastpaws, do in this situation?"

"He'd... p-probably set up some kind of prank that would humiliate and make her look stupid. B-but... those are just children's stories. Y-you'd have to be crazy to try that in real life."

"There are lots things you still have to learn about me, kid," Imoen grinned, "and one of them is that I am _totally_ crazy."

* * *

It was dark by the time Aerie had finished that chore, gathered a few things Imoen had asked for and the two of them had broken into Tira's caravan. Well, not broken into; the lock posed no challenge to Imoen now that she had some pins and needles and bits of wire. The show had started; they could hear the music and laughter from the main Circus tent.

The inside of the caravan was a bit more lavishly decorated than Aerie's had been, with a proper bed rather than a shelf with a blanket draped over it, little scented things hanging from the roof and one of those vanity cabinets with a big mirror on it. There were also lots of bottles lying around. Imoen took the lid off one and sniffed; it was a sweet smelling oil.

"She must use this for washing her hair," she said, putting it to one side for the moment. "Ah... what's this?" She picked up a large glass bottle that was next to the mirror. "Gin?"

"Yes... s-she always has a drink before every show. To calm her nerves, I suppose. A-and always just before she goes to sleep."

"Hm... what do you think, Aerie?"

"Um," the Elf held up a case that was strapped around her neck and shoulder; Quayle's medicine case that she'd picked up per Imoen's instruction. In it were lots of quite small bottles, which the Elf deliberated over for moment before picking one out. "Laxative."

"I like how you think," Imoen took the bottle and began pouring its contents into the gin. "How strong is this stuff?"

"Oh... p-pretty powerful. We only needed a teaspoonful to clear the Elephant when he was blocked up."

"Better just pour it all in anyway, just to be on the safe side."

"Are... a-are you sure she won't suspect us?"

"C'mon Aerrers; she would never believe you capable of anything like this. And anyway, after we've spoken to Quayle tomorrow we'll be getting out of here... we'll just hang around long enough to make sure she's had all her surprises."

And they left several surprises for Tira, since they knew they had at least a few hours before the Lion tamer would return. What they weren't counting on however was there being another surprise. About half-way through the allotted time for the Circus' performance, the caravan rocked slightly as if there had been a tremor. Not enough to smash any of the items Imoen had carefully prepared, thankfully.

"A-another explosion?" Aerie asked, keeping her balance against a wall.

"No... didn't sound exactly like an explosion this time," Imoen strained her ears. She heard screaming.

They ran into the night outside, but the silvery, blue white glow they encountered that lit The Promenade wasn't moon light. It was the main Circus tent where they had been doing the show. Crowds of people were pouring out of it, screaming, pushing, trampling each other. Imoen and Aerie moved to get a closer look; some of the people stumbling out of there had huge slashes and gashes across their clothes and skin, like they'd been attacked by animals, although no animal Imoen recognised.

"Uncle... U-uncle Quayle!" Aerie gasped. Within seconds she was determinedly trying to push her way through the crowds, even though they were all hurrying in the opposite direction.

"Wait!" Imoen caught her by the arm. "You can't just going rushing... you don't know what's happening yet."

"What's happening? I... I-I have to help him!" The Avariel answered resolutely, yanking herself free.

"Don't be..." Imoen tried to use reason, but it was already far too late for that. Aerie was making her way through the crowd with surprising speed; it seemed once she was really determined to do something there was little that would stop her, not even a stampede.

What should she do? If Jaheira were here, she would have been furious at that question and told Imoen that she already knew what to do. Her legs clearly did, anyway; they hadn't picked now to seize up. Not now there was a risk of actual death... no, they were already taking her in after the Elf. Her brain was going to have to have a serious chat with them once this was all over.

Oh well... what a perfect end to a perfect day.


	7. Ch 6: Castle of Illusion

**Out Of The Shadows**

**Chapter Six:**

**Castle Of Illusion**

They had brought this on themselves. Kalah gazed into the pool through his bright yellow eyes. He watched impassively as the waters showed him the people screaming, running, trampling each other as they tried desperately to escape the world changing around them; one man became entombed in a wall as it materialised around him. Others ran in terror from illusionary monsters; a few were brave enough to try to fight, shielding their families, children... but doing so only gave the illusions power, making them whole. They died. Kalah had no sympathy for them at all. They'd brought it on themselves.

"All this would be driving me up the wall," Kalah's eyes shot away from the pool to the old Gnome, Quayle. The younger Gnome turned the massive bulk of his new body toward the old fool, huge muscles twitching and flexing. "Er... if I wasn't up here already, that is."

Kalah sneered and growled. With a little wave of his hand the sparkling sphere pinning the old man high up near the ceiling of what was now Kalah's throne room fizzed out, dropping him. Quayle fumbled around for his spectacles before slowly rising to his feet.

"Kalah?" The old man squinted at the huge beast with brown and orange skin, hunched forwards with its back bent bow like by the weight of its own arms. "H-how, Kalah? Why?"

"_Why?_" The monster laughed rapturously. "You think to ask that now? Perhaps you should have paid attention before you made a clown out of me... instead of spending all your time with that wingless brat... you're no better than my father," Kalah's face contorted in contempt and rage, "_I_ was the one destined for greatness, not her!"

"Oh, Kalah," Quayle shook his head sadly, "I tried to help you; I did. But magic was just not for you. Now if you'd gone into griffon breeding like I'd suggested, you'd have found it a very calming, rewarding..."

"You still dare to mock me, old man? Do you not see what I have accomplished," Kalah swept one of his massive limbs around the former circus tent, now a marble throne room with murals of women holding jugs adorning the floors and walls. "We are in a new realm, now. A realm where I am the master."

"I don't know what you've done, Kalah, but I know you couldn't have done it with your own power. This is a power you've borrowed, and as such you don't have the wisdom to remain master here for very long."

"My power here is absolute!"

"No one's power is absolute; what you have done here is light up a beacon that every wizard, sorcerer, wandering hero and adventurer is going to flock to. You might survive a few of them, but sooner or later you will be destroyed."

"No one will ever laugh at me again," Kalah hissed, "they will never mock me, treat me like I'm worthless..."

"Oh, stop trying to paint yourself as nothing but a victim," Quayle snapped back at the monster, "it's pitiful. Maybe people did laugh, maybe your father treated you badly... I don't know. I tried to help, but it was still up to you to find a way to break the cycle, make a conscious decision to be better, instead of just festering in your own self pity..."

"Be quiet!" The ogre rumbled in anger. "Beast, beast... you're all beasts!" His yellow eyes flashed, and Quayle watched in shocked horror his own hand starting to melt. His whole body spread and oozed, turning into a viscous jelly. "You see!" Kalah laughed.

"Well, this is most unsettling indeed," the Jelly still managed to speak, but Kalah turned away from it. He had a realm to master, after all; why waste his time on an insignificant, feeble old man? Perhaps he would have some more fun with him later though...

"_Kalah, you fool!_" Agitated, the Ogre stomped over to a pedestal and plucked the ring from it. There was no way it could fit now; it seemed so tiny, like the slightest pressure from his finger and thumb could grind it to dust. "_You were supposed to make sure the girl was inside the Circus tent before you used the wish!_"

"_Fool_, am I?" Kalah narrowed his yellow eyes. "You forget, 'my _lord_', I _know_ these people. As soon as the wingless brat suspects her dear Uncle Quayle might be in trouble, she will come running to his protection... you see?"

The pool showed him the entrance to the Circus tent, and sure enough the flaps were blown inwards as Aerie burst through them. She paused a moment, her eyes peeling back in shock and awe at the sight greeting her, but then she tentatively stepped forwards again.

"I don't see why she's so important," the ogre grumbled, "she's just a worthless slave girl."

"_I do not appreciate your tone, Gnome. The power you have now is but a fraction of all I possess; whatever I have given I can just as easily take away again._"

"And yet this girl frightens you," Kalah grinned.

"_So great is my power that I have seen the many paths that lead into the future, and every time mine crosses with hers, I... she must not live. I warn you not to dally, Kalah; finish her quickly!"_

"If she were such a threat, why not finish her yourself?" The ogre glared at the girl; her, the worst beast of them all. The one who pretended to be so sympathetic, so nice... so utterly deceitful. She laughed like all the rest, mocked him behind his back. "Unless you can't... or you're too afraid, perhaps?"

"_I wish for amusement... but I don't want you getting so caught up in your petty revenge and dreams of power that you forget what I want you to do..."_

"What you want no longer matters to me," Kalah chuckled, "I no longer have a use for you... but don't worry; the girl will never be leaving here. But I'm going to use her for my own amusement first."

"_No, Kalah!_ " The ring cried out desperately as the Ogre made a large glass bottle materialise as he stepped out on to a balcony at the top of his tower, overlooking his new realm; a rock floating above an abyss, the black sky only interrupted by occasional flashes of blue lightning. "_If you don't listen to me you will almost certainly lose everything...she's far too dangerous to play games with,_" the Ogre shrugged, dropped the ring into the bottle and put a cork in it. He then went and put the bottle back on the pedestal.

"Now," Kalah clapped and rubbed his hands, heading back towards the pool with a triumphant smile, "come closer Quayle; I want you to hear all your niece's cries of pain. I do hope she's a screamer... in any case, let us get this show on the road..."

* * *

Imoen burst through the flaps of the Circus tent... and skidded to a halt.

"That's... not right," she stammered. She was standing on some rocky, a whole wide ring of rock she could see disappearing into the gloom encircling a berg of rock, on which stood a tall, white, tiered tower. At least Aerie had stopped running away from her as well, and had stopped just before a bridge across the gap between the ring and the berg, her face a mix of apprehension and wide eyed astonishment.

"Have you ever seen anything like this?" The Elf gasped, probably hearing Imoen approach behind her.

"Like this?" Imoen thought back for a moment. "Erm... not... not exactly like this, no. Either the tent has suddenly gotten a lot bigger on the inside, or we're not in Athkatla anymore. Either way, whatever did this has gotta be way too powerful for us to deal with. We should go back. Now." Still troubled by the memory of escaping from Irenicus, no thanks to herself, she tried taking Aerie's arm, but the blonde shook the redhead off easily.

"Quayle must be in that tower somewhere," Aerie insisted, "I-I can't leave until I've found him."

"Why not just leave it to the guards and those Cowled Wizards?"

"The guards won't do anything," Aerie said with a bitter scowl, "a-and, after what happened to them earlier I doubt the wizards will be in a hurry to get here either... I'm not sure if their power could even reach inside this place. U-uncle Quayle might not have that long."

"You don't know what's in that tower!" Imoen headed off Aerie just before the Elf could set foot on the bridge. "And neither of us have any weapons."

"I..." Aerie hesitated for a second, but then was resolute again. "I have magic."

"Well that's swell, kiddo. But you ever tried casting a spell when you've got about twenty kobolds trying to chew your butt off? That kind of thing really breaks your concentration... you need some kind of back up."

Aerie paused for thought. Imoen could see all her doubts, nervousness, the Elf's whole body was tense so she was clearly afraid, which was wise in the circumstances... but she was still determined to go on. After a moment she reached into a little pocket on her belt and pulled out a small shard of glass or crystal. In response to Aerie's wishes, it seemed, the little shard grew in her hand, forming a hilt and then a long, sharp blade.

"Where did you get that?" Imoen asked. The weapon chimed as Aerie took a few tentative practice swings.

"B-Bentha gave it to me," the Elf answered, "she... she said I would need it, soon. This must be what she meant..."

"Do you even know how to use that thing?" The redhead asked, doubtfully.

"We... w-we have mock battles in the show sometimes," Aerie said, looking rather uncertainly at the blade herself, "I-I've watched them practice for it a few times..." the Elf swallowed back all her uncertainty again, turning it back into determination. "Y-you should go back... I have to go on."

"You'll just get yourself killed," Imoen grumbled, seeing now that there was no way of convincing Aerie out of this, short of punching and knocking her out, and Imoen wasn't confident she could do that very easily. The Avariel was absolutely determined. "You know that, don't you?"

"Quayle saved my life before," the elf said, trying and failing at a reassuring smile, "so... I-I _have_ to try and save him. Goodbye, Imoen," she said with a small hug, "it was nice meeting you. We... we had fun, I think."

Imoen watched helplessly again as Aerie headed across the bridge, cautious, furtive, but with absolutely no doubt about her purpose. Imoen remembered her failure with the Duergar; she'd tried to help but just made it worse. She wasn't even supposed to be here, anyway; it was supposed to be some other, much stronger Bhaalspawn... but, she was here. And that was that really, wasn't it? Aerie could never abandon Quayle, and Imoen couldn't turn her back on some naive, inexperienced but ridiculously brave bufflehead who clearly needed all the help she could get. Imoen wasn't strong, or that tough really, or even particularly skilled with a sword... but she must have learnt something travelling with Jaheira that would improve their chances slightly.

"Oh no," she shook her head, running after Aerie again, "you don't get to go off being brave like that and leave me feeling all guilty. No. I'm coming with whether you like it or not."

"B-but..." Aerie started to protest.

"No buts, kid. Just remember," Imoen leant forward, poking the Elf in the shoulder, "if I get killed in here, it'll be your fault." The redhead harrumphed, suddenly taking the lead as they headed further into the realm. The Elf was rather confused, but she kept treading on as well.

"Er... thank you, I suppose," she said.

"No need to thank me," Imoen said, trying to appear non-chalant about it, "Little Imoen has never let a friend down, no sir! Well... okay, there was the whole thing when I nearly blew all my friends up... and another time when I may have accidently set fire to the tent Jaheira was sleeping in while trying to cook dinner... but those are isolated incidents. I'd say stuff like that only happens about once every three months, max."

"Uh... huh..."

They were nearly all the way across the bridge, when Imoen's hand shot up in front of Aerie. Before them had appeared a little swirl of pink smoke, like the whirlpools you saw if you unplugged something, only instead of draining away this was getting bigger. Much bigger, and wider. It then started to solidify, taking the form of a man sat cross legged on a little cloud with a spiky moustache and a turban on his head. Aerie gasped, stepping back and instinctively raising her sword, body tensed... but Imoen put a hand on her. The Elf turned to the redhead with a questioning gaze. Imoen shook her head; there was no point in fighting, yet.

She hadn't seen one before, but this looked to her like a Djinn, or a genie as some people called it. Very rare, very powerful... Although it might at least explain what had happened here; a Djinn that had been trapped in an object like a lamp or ring or anything was obligated to grant its master any wish. On the positive side though, it didn't seem to have much interest in fighting them, it was greeting them with a big friendly grin, and it probably had no love for its master. Djinns were notorious for being treacherous and unpredictable... well, Imoen would get grumpy too if she was forced to live in a lamp. Not a whole lot of space for entertaining guests.

"Greetings, little mortals!" The Genie said with a hearty laugh.

"Um... h-hello?" Aerie responded nervously.

"Excellent! Now enough friendly banter... there was something he wanted me to say... oh, yes!" The Djinn cleared his throat, "Oh, wayfarers who have come to amuse the mighty Lord Kalah! Before ye may proceed on your quest toward enlightenment, you must answer my riddle! It's a little bit cliché, I know, but I think when you do these genre pieces it's sometimes best to just really go for it unashamedly..."

"Ka... K-Kalah?" Aerie blinked in astonishment.

"The master, yes. But if you seek an audience you must first prove yourselves worthy."

"Kalah summoned you? But... h-how?"

"He is the Lord here. His word is law, his power absolute, his eyes see all, his brows... are the browiest. That is all you need to know. Now are you ready to answer the riddle?"

"I've only got sixty years left to live," Imoen muttered. They weren't going to learn anything from this Genie. Even if it wanted to tell them anything, it was likely that Kalah was actually watching them, probably from the top of that tower, and since the Genie was bound it couldn't say anything. It didn't matter; if Kalah had wished for all this then he was the only one who could undo it, one way or another. "Let's just get it over with."

"I'd say sixty years is a tad optimistic. But anyway... A princess is as old as the prince will be when the princess is twice as old as the prince was when the princess' age was half the sum of their present age. So, how old are they? And to prove you're not just copying the answer from somewhere you'll have to show me your working out, too."

"Heh... I've got this Aerrers," Imoen stepped forward, feeling a sudden surge of confidence, "it so happens that maths was my best subject back in Candlekeep... really, the only thing I ever got any praise for. Well, I was good at handstands, too; before I realised that the reason boys kept asking me to do them was less about admiring my dexterity and more to do with the skirts I wore back then..."

"So... the answer, please?"

"Ha! It's simple algebra, bufflehead. So, you got the Princess, A, who is as old as the Prince, B, will be in X number of years when the Princess will be twice as old as the Prince was Y years ago... so we've got four unknowns, but you can make three equations from them which you can then simplify as follows..."

"Um... actually, I've changed my mind. Could you just skip to the answer?"

"Well, I think any age when the Prince is three quarters the age of the Princess would work. Three and four, six and eight, twelve and sixteen..."

"Good!" The Djinn clapped his hands together in an effort to save everyone's sanity.

"I actually got a gold badge in my workbook for that... although it might have just been to cover up the picture of a naked man I'd drawn..."

"Er... y-yes. I think perhaps you should just go on in, now," the Djinn bowed and bid that them enter, "I know answering riddles can sometimes be tedious, but, when Kalah is done toying with you perhaps it will help you to consider how lucky you are that you won't have to answer another ever again," he puffed and vanished, although his voice lingered a few seconds longer, "be wary of the ring inside there. It would be a shame if that ruby red head of yours were damaged in any way..."

Ruby red? Imoen wouldn't have said her hair was that red. In this light it looked darker, maybe... in any case, Aerie wasn't stopping to dwell on these things; she was already marching up to the door of the tower.

At least she had her sword, various spell components stuffed in a little pouch on her belt, a medal in the shape of a Raccoon's head hanging around her neck beneath her dress that served to focus divine power. She was also still carrying the medicine case... all things considered she was remarkably well equipped to embark on a crazy solo mission, like maybe the Gods or fate or destiny or whatever had been guiding her to this point. They hadn't been so kind to Imoen; she had the wand she'd attacked Irenicus with, which Aerie had kindly returned, and... well, nothing really. She was wearing a tunic which, once any 'action' started, she had already used her math skills to calculate would offer no protection whatsoever.

Maybe she should ask Aerie to share her spell components. Magic required that you remember lots of incantations and gestures, but lots of spells also required a material element; little things that helped to further shape the magic. Like if you wanted to make fire, you needed something that had fire in it, like brimstone or maybe just a little piece of wood. It was all perfectly logical. But she didn't want to weaken and drain Aerie's resources. If only there was...

Something touched Imoen's foot. She looked down... now _that_ was an extraordinary bit of good luck...

"What is it?" Aerie asked, looking back at her.

"Someone must have dropped this while they were running out," Imoen smiled back, picking up the pouch filled with little bits of chipped rock, wood, crystals and little sachets filled with alchemical substances. Now if she could remember her incantations correctly she might actually be able to defend herself in here.

"Strange... I-I didn't see any..." but before either could wonder any more about where the pouch had come from, they heard scream coming from inside the tower and instinctively both ran towards it, in the circumstances suggesting that their own survival instincts could have been better developed.

It wasn't a monster that had caused the scream, but another creature that could be equally as dangerous; especially now that it was free and had its eyes fixed upon its prey, its former tormentor, Tira. No chair was going to save her now, but Aerie did.

"Stay back!" The Lion tamer cried out desperately, crawling backwards away from the beast having lost her whip. She longer had any power over the animal, now eyeing her hungrily flexing its powerful just about to pounce... then a flash and a bang and the creature snarled, blinded and confused. It swiped at the air in front of it, but feeling nothing it turned and fled down one of the white corridors. Imoen arrived in time to see Aerie with her hand outstretched, slowly inhaling.

"You?" Tira turned her head and squinted, as if not sure what she was seeing. "H-how...? Why?"

"Because," Aerie walked around and offered a hand to the bully, "I'm not a beast. H-how is a little harder to explain. To be honest, I-I wasn't really thinking much about what I was doing..."

Tira took the hand and helped herself up, while giving Aerie a suspicious stare. As soon as she was on her feet she sneered, snapped her hand away from the Elf and with a little shove then turned and ran back the way Imoen and Aerie had came.

"Hey!" Imoen yelled, turning after her, "she just saved your life... ungrateful gulley penny..."

"Let her go," Aerie sighed, "s-she's just scared... a-and she's not why we're here, anyway."

"Hmph," Imoen folded her arms. It wasn't like they ever saved people for the gratitude, but treating Aerie like dirt like that... although the Elf was right, probably. Tira was scared, and with good reason, and... "oh... do you think she'll go back to her...?"

"Eh... probably..."

"You think, maybe... considering the circumstances, we should..."

"I have to find Quayle."

"Yeah..."

A low rumbling growl bounced down the corridor in front of them, freezing both young women to the spot.

"That... that wasn't a Lion, was it?" Imoen said, her eyelids still and unblinking.

"No," Aerie responded meekly, likewise unable to close her eyes.

"You scared?"

"A... a little..."

"Good. I mean... i-it's like Jaheira said to me; courage doesn't mean not ever getting scared. You've got to use fear; it'll keep you alert. Give you energy..." Imoen's motivating speech was cut short by the creature that appeared, stalking down the corridor on hind legs that bent forward like those of a dog, supporting a powerful upper body and arms with really, really big claws and a snout with huge, pointy teeth. Imoen's legs closed together, her knees bent like in a curtsy while she grimaced for an instant. "Ohh... it hasn't made me do that for a while though..."

The creature opened its jaw wide enough that it could swallow a head whole, screaming at them with a deafening roar. It was going to charge. Imoen immediately began an incantation; a bolt of lightning ought to cut the critter down to size...

"Wait!" Aerie suddenly cut in front of Imoen, standing there with her eyes closed and her arms outstretched. There was no time for the redhead to protest or quiz her about what the hell she thought she was doing... the creature rushed forward, its claw raised to come crashing down and slice the Elf down the middle. And then it vanished.

"Heh," the Elf opened her eyes, clearly scarcely believing it herself, "I... I-I was right," she grinned.

"Apparently," Imoen narrowed her eyes, not really that pleased at all. Aerie may have been right, and saved Imoen from wasting a spell, but still it was a pretty big risk to take. "How did you know it was an illusion?" The Elf pointed at the ground just behind the redhead; all she could see was the stone floor and... of course. "It hadn't any shadow. But, some of the people we saw running out had clearly been attacked..."

"T-trying to fight the illusions might give them power... m-make them solid."

"Which means there might already be quite a few 'solid' ones pestering about here," Imoen sighed, "listen Aerie, that was brave n'all, but... never do anything like that again unless you can run it by someone else first, okay?"

"I-I'm sorry," Aerie deflated, lowering her head.

"It's more important to me for you to be alive than for you to be right."

They continued into the tower, fully alert now to the presence of any danger. Although they were also aware of the possibility of there still being innocent people in here, which was just as well since the next thing they ran into, or rather almost ran into them, was a crying middle aged woman.

"You... you're not..." the sobbing woman touched their faces, "you're real! You... you have to help me! I... I lost my son in here..."

"We'll find him," Imoen tried to assure her. All they had to do was stop Kalah; then everything should go back to how it was and anyone still trapped inside should reappear inside the Circus tent. They didn't really need any more distractions like this. "Just run out the way we came; you'll find the exit over a bridge..."

"No! I can't leave my son trapped in here with all these... all these monsters!" She insisted, imploring Imoen through her tear stained eyes. There was no time for this...

"Look... you're an adult, so do what you want. Just make sure to stay well behind us, okay?"

The woman nodded and they proceeded, although her constant jumping and whimpering at every little sound was a little bit irritating. The next room they entered was vast; they were standing on a walkway that was like one of the spokes of a huge wheel, the abyss beneath them, and at the centre were the stairs leading up to the next level; they were still pretty certain that Kalah would be found overlooking his realm from the very top of the tower.

"Quite a nice place Kalah's made for himself here," Imoen gazed over the edge, into depths; she wondered if there might be someone on the 'other side', if there was one, looking back up at her. "Although... I prefer my rooms to be a bit more cosy."

"I-its the lack of railings that concerns me," Aerie said. There were railings, or at least a little wall made up of stone columns a couple of feet high, but there were lots of gaps in it which did seem like a bit of a health and safety issue.

The woman screamed suddenly, grabbing hold of Imoen and pointing desperately. It was another, although not like the one they'd seen in the corridor. This was one resembled a muscular human, but with green skin and a pig-like face; an Orc. It had no weapons, but it was running towards them flailing its arms, and it definitely was casting a shadow.

Imoen tried to shake off the woman, but she held fast, sobbing and whimpering piteously. It was left to Aerie; wide eyed and frightened, she raised her sword anyway, preparing to strike the creature as soon as it came in range... but she paused. The Orc had flinched, and then it raised its arms over itself protectively... that was strange behaviour for an illusionary monster. And then the illusion shattered and it was just an ordinary man fearing for his life... he must have just been asking them for help. Or trying to warn them. They heard laughter next; chortles. Just behind the redhead.

"Imoen!" Aerie gasped. The redhead managed to turn herself around to face the woman. She saw her white skin turn green, and then tear off most of her dress as muscle ballooned under it. The real Orc slapped her huge hands around Imoen's arms, lifting and then throwing her around, over the edge...

The redhead his the ground, skidded and then felt herself falling. But only for an instant; something had managed to get hold of her. She looked up and saw Aerie's head poking just over the ledge, holding onto Imoen's arm with both of her own. The Elf had managed to loop one of her arms around one of the little stone columns, the only thing preventing her from being over as well. But where was the Orc?

"Aerie!" Imoen cried out, but there was nothing the Elf could do without letting go of her. The Orc appeared over the blonde, having somehow obtained a spear, then chortled as it thrust the tip through Aerie's shoulder, twisting it around. The Elf winced in pain, her eyes watered, but still she refused to let go. "Duck!"

Aerie pulled her head in, while Imoen pointed up her wand unleashing a small sphere of charged energy that cracked through the air striking the Orc's face. It's hands went up to its head as it staggered back slightly, and then toppled forwards, just missing Imoen as it started its endless fall. The redhead grabbed hold of Aerie with her other hand, swung and got a foot on the ledge and then pulled the rest of herself over.

She didn't stop to rest; Aerie was still lying face down, a little pool of blood forming under her, breathing lightly. Imoen turned her over, resting the Elf's head on her lap as she fumbled through the medicine case. She pulled the cork out of a small blue bottle; it had a pleasant, fruity smell like wine. Although Imoen knew from far too much experience that it didn't taste nearly as sweet. She poured a little over Aerie's wound, and then held the bottle to the Elf's lips getting her to drink. A moment later, when Imoen had wiped away the blood, the hole the spear had made had almost completely closed, and the Elf had opened her eyes.

"Either you're one of the bravest people I've ever met," Imoen smiled gratefully, "or you have really got to start thinking things through more."

There was no time to celebrate; more of those dog creatures appeared, yapping and snarling, from every entrance to this central chamber, including the one they had used. Imoen pulled Aerie up and the two of them ran for the stairs; the Elf began an incantation as she was being pulled along, and once they reached the top of the staircase she turned around, pointing her sword back down. The creatures were only a second behind them, but the blonde finished and the glass sword lit up. A cloud of energy shot out, sparkling and filling the air with a strange metallic smell as it cut the first creature in two and then continued bouncing from wall to wall back down the staircase tearing through everything in its path.

It was a good move; showed great instinct in battle. Unfortunately, the battle was far from over.

"Yeah... we both ought to have thought this through," Imoen said. Around them the room was thick with even more creatures; some real, some illusions. They were pressed together so tightly that it was impossible to tell which was which.

Imoen locked her fingers together and turned her palms outwards. A fiery ball appeared between them, then shot outwards creating a column of bright yellow and orange flame into the oncoming monsters, moving it as she twisted her torso around the room so that it went through like a scythe. Behind her, Aerie began chanting, calling on Baervar to protect them before proceeding to cast other magic to harden their skins, create an aura around them that would absorb some damage like a suit of armour.

There were just too many of the creatures; quite a few fell instantly to Imoen's flame, but some carried on despite their fur being burned away, and they started to leap over the fire scythe. Aerie had to stop her incantations as a monster managed to run around the wall to her side. She swung her sword which cut through flesh and bone with ease, cutting off its snout. But still there were others coming.

Imoen had no weapon; all she could do was dodge and weave once the creatures had surrounded here. Of course, while she was doing she couldn't go on the offensive. She needed at least a few seconds to concentrate and coordinate her words and gestures enough to cast any more spells... they needed an exit strategy.

One of the badly burnt dog creatures was pulling itself along the floor; Imoen hadn't noticed it until it managed to catch her shin with its hand-like claw, flipping her over. She landed on her back and started to kick it in the face and snout with her free foot, but with very little effect. Others were closing, lips peeling back as they beared their teeth... really should have thought this whole thing through...

"Bad doggies! No bones for you!" The creatures turned their attention away from Imoen as a new, more dangerous foe entered the fray. "All you will get from Minsc is a good licking!"

The huge bald warrior ran into the middle of them, a huge axe in one hand and a warhammer in the other. The creatures jumped over each other, leaping at him... and went flying away again the instant they did. Jaheira was just behind him, slicing at one of the monsters with her scimitar, before delivering an uppercut with her shield to another one. And the other man they'd met in the dungeon, Yoshimo; he stood still for a moment as one of the creatures ran at him, his hand on the hilt of his sheathed weapon. And then just when it was close, he drew the sword which severed both the monsters arms straight out of the sheath.

Imoen didn't know how they'd got here, and now wasn't really the best time to ask. Fortune was on her side again, and with the creatures attention focused on the warriors she could join the battle with her spells. Monsters froze in place, others collapsed as she sucked from them all their energy, making them easy targets for her comrades. Spheres of white hot magic started to fly, blinding and punching holes through the beasts... with all of them working together the battle was over very quickly.

After the last of the dog creatures fell, the adventurers slowly turned themselves around surveying the piles of bodies, making sure there were no survivors. Eventually, Imoen's eyes met Jaheira's and she felt her heart contract suddenly. She couldn't read the druid's expression... was she pleased to see her? Was she still angry? Maybe she was still pumped up after the battle...

"Um... h-help?" A tiny voice cried out. It enabled Imoen to tear her eyes from Jaheira as she looked around for... Aerie. Where was she?

Minsc found her. One of the creatures had fallen on her sword, but had fallen on her as well pinning the Elf beneath its huge bulk. The Rashemi put aside his weapons and heaved it off her, allowing the Avariel to breathe.

"A pretty lady!" The warrior beamed.

"Er... l-lady?" She blinked in surprise.

"I am the mighty berserker, Minsc, and this," his hand went up to his shoulder, allowing the little hamster to climb onto it, "this is Boo."

"Right... h-hello, Boo," she said, talking like she was in a dream which could have been forgiven for thinking right now.

"Boo likes you! He has a very good feeling, and is rarely ever wrong about people."

"How're you feeling?" Imoen asked, helping the Elf up.

"Strange," Aerie swayed slightly. She looked at the fallen dog creature Minsc had pulled off her, breathing slowly. "I... I-I'm alive? I did... I did that?"

"That's not all you did. You might want to get this looked at it though," Imoen held out Aerie's arm examining the gashes there.

"Oh. I... I don't remember feeling anything..."

"That's adrenalin. It's normal. I used to think I could fly sometimes..." Imoen shared, but then remembered who she was actually talking to. "Oh... sorry, kid."

"Avariel... I mean, some o-older Avariel than I was back then," Aerie shared as well, "they would play this very dangerous game. T-two of them would fly as high as they could, and then they would contract their wings, allowing themselves to fall to the ground. The first to spread their wings and start to fly was deemed the loser... a-assuming they both managed to avoid going splat."

"Sounds dangerous."

"It is... extremely dangerous. I-I never understood why anyone ever wanted to do it... u-until now, that is..."

"It is when we face great danger that we become more united with nature than is possible at any other time," Jaheira said, sheathing her scimitar as she approached the little group. "Almost every animal that has ever lived has at some point to make the same decision; fight or flight. You become more aware, feel a deep connection to ancestors that existed long before recorded time... to some the feeling is intoxicating, and they go to great lengths to experience it again." The Druid stood before the Elf, whose blue eyes peeled back as she must have realised that this primeval instinct was exactly what she felt. "But there is never any point in risking your life just for some cheap thrill, child."

"No, ma'am... I-I know," Aerie nodded, responding to Jaheira's air of authority.

"But never mind about that. Which of you was it who threw a lightning bolt down the stairs? The one that nearly baked me like a spud... hm?"

"Oh, so that's what happened to Minsc's hair," Imoen nudged Aerie, who might not have understood that she was saving her from a lot of pain, "we used to make fun of him because he looked like a girl."

"Er... r-right," the Avariel looked doubtfully up at the huge bald warrior, who appeared to flutter his eyelids a few times.

"Anyway, Aerie, these are my friends. Well, two of them are; Minsc and Boo. And Lady Lovejoy here is Jaheira. And that's... Yoshimo?" Imoen looked suspiciously at the rogue she'd only met briefly before. "I kinda thought you'd have just taken off once we were all out of that place."

"I 'kinda thought' you wouldn't," Jaheira bore into the redhead.

"I'm... sorry Jae," Imoen gulped, "I was just so scared, I... I didn't know what to do. I wasn't exactly myself either; it all got a bit... Randall Tor, in there."

"Being sorry will not make things right," the Druid said, unimpressed.

"No, well... nothing can, can it?" The redhead gestured helplessly.

"No," Jaheira nodded thoughtfully as she exhaled, "you seem to be feeling a lot better, anyway, for which I am glad."

"I-I thought you'd," Imoen suddenly felt her lower lip quivering, "I... thought you'd gone," she sniffed.

"Don't be a fool, child," the Druid held Imoen, embraced her, "Khalid and I made a promise. Have I ever struck you as someone who breaks her word? I could never leave you without knowing you were safe." The redhead sobbed a few times as she embraced Jaheira as well. It was so obvious now; the Druid would always be there no matter what. How could she have ever believed otherwise? Meanwhile everyone else in the room looked around at the suddenly very interesting cracks and other patterns in the walls and ceiling, feeling they were intruding on a very private moment. "That being the case," Jaheira said at last, holding Imoen at arms length again, "what the bloody, bloody hell are you doing here?"

"What am I? Wha... what are you doing here? How'd you find me?"

"I saw the Circus tent light up; I think everyone in the city must have seen it. I had a feeling that your curiosity might get the better of you, too, drawing you in like a moth to a flame."

"Well... not exactly," Imoen looked back at the Avariel, "not this time, anyway. Where'd you get all the new armour and weapons?"

"It is not my first time in Amn. I met an old friend; runs a store now. I will tell you about him later. You still have not answered my question."

"Aerie has save my life at least twice today. I'm helping her to save another; her Uncle is trapped in here, somewhere."

"Ah, yes... the Avariel," Jaheira turned and scrutinised the blonde elf.

"You must forgive me; there is still much in these lands I am unfamiliar with," Yoshimo said, bowing towards Aerie, "what is an Avariel?"

"A very rare type of winged Elf," the Druid explained, "many thought they were extinct."

"Ah... you must forgive me again, then; I don't see any wings..."

"They were cut off quite a few years ago... w-when they became infected," Aerie sighed, "but i-it's not important right now. I-I have to find Uncle Quayle, and stop Kalah before he hurts any more people," she said urgently and insistently, putting her little foot down.

"Hm... plucky little thing, isn't she?" The Kara-Turran grinned.

"She is right," Jaheira nodded, drawing her weapon again, "we can chat more later. Now, let us end this," she said, heading towards the next staircase leading up.

"You're helping?" Imoen asked, as if she really needed to.

"We are here now, are we not? Besides, I could hardly ignore such an unnatural abomination as this. It needs to be cut out like any gangrenous tissue."

She received no argument from anyone. The rest of the journey up the tower was mostly uneventful; they were attacked by the odd stray dog creature but these were dispatched with ease. After a few levels and Imoen lost count of how many stairs, fatigue was starting to affect most of them. Well, Imoen anyway. Although Aerie, she suspected, was running on pure willpower and determination by this point.

"So, did Quayle teach you how to cast protection spells and lightning?" Imoen asked the Elf in an effort to stop herself thinking about how sore her legs were.

"N-no," Aerie shook her head, "he would only teach me illusions a-and Circus magic. But, I... I found one of his old spell books lying around from his adventuring days a-and memorised all the incantations."

"I doubt even Quayle would leave a thing like that 'lying around'. You mean you stole it, dontcha?" The redhead snerked.

"No!" The blonde protested too much. "I... I-I mean... well, he had so many he wasn't going to miss just one, was he? A-anyway, he hardly uses them anymore..."

"You naughty girl."

"Uncle Quayle would tell me stories about when he was an adventurer; a-about ancient temples and artefacts and o-other worlds. But he thinks I'm too soft to be an adventurer... but I-I don't want to spend the rest of my life trapped in the Circus. I want to explore and learn as much as I can about this world and others, and maybe I can find ways to use magic to really help some people. And I'm sure Baervar didn't give me his power just to help a few apes."

"You're not at all put off by all the monsters?"

"No. T-they frighten me, but I-I'm frightened pretty much all the time anyway. They say people are afraid of what they don't know, a-and there's so much I don't know yet. I think I've learnt all I can from the Circus. I don't think I'm weak, either; I've been hurt lots, a-and I've seen a lot of people die... good people who didn't deserve to. But I'm still here."

"That's good. Now all you've gotta do is say all that to your Uncle. He won't listen unless it comes from you."

"I know," Aerie sighed and shook her head helplessly.

"Shhh!" Jaheira turned round. "I think we are nearly there."

She was right. At the top of the staircase was a grand red door, which Minsc had to use all his weight on to creak open. Inside was a throne room with a balcony that overlooked the domain, and at the centre of it was a pool. Of course, being a Throne room it also had a throne and on it sat a huge orange skinned ogre, resting his head on his arms as if he was waiting... which he probably had been.

"Ah, my beasts, welcome!" The Ogre grinned evilly, bearing its tusks, "welcome to my domain."

"Kalah?" Aerie asked.

"Yes, my beast. May I say that I'm impressed; I very much doubted that you would survive, but it seems you do have some skill after all. But you and you're friends are no match for me; this is my world, you understand?"

"Wh-what have you done with Uncle Quayle?" The Elf demanded.

"I'm here, Aerie dear," it took everyone a few seconds to realise that it was jelly oozing about near the pool that was talking, "he speaks the truth, dear; he can't be defeated in here. You all need to run, now!"

"Oh no," as Kalah slowly rose to his feet, the door slammed shut, "this is a Circus with a twist; you are the ones who shall entertain me," he laughed at how funny he thought he'd just been.

The adventurers were done talking; Kalah was obviously mad, and they all knew what they had to do to put an end to all this. Minsc and Jaheira charged at him, slashing and bashing at him while Yoshimo fired bolt after bolt from his crossbow. Aerie and Imoen began casting spells, attacking him with magically charged bolts erupting from their fingertips... but Kalah didn't stop laughing. The bolts just bounced off him, and he swatted Jaheira and even Minsc away with a couple of swipes from his club-like arms. He then pointed at the spellcasters, a wave of fire erupting from his hands scorching the wall; they all just narrowly managed to jump out of the way.

The others kept attacking, although nothing seemed to have any effect on Kalah. Imoen had decided for once to think things through. She'd seen Kalah with magic; he was hopeless. That meant it wasn't his power he was using. It was most probably the Djinn's, who would be bound to some object... what was in that bottle on the pedestal? A ring... a ring with a red ruby. Yeah, it would be shame if it were to be damaged in any way; dame treacherous. She would have to remember to thank him if she saw him again.

For all his power, Kalah was still very stupid. He'd left it in plain sight and was too busy focusing on the others to notice Imoen until she had smashed the bottle open. At that point he turned, scowling and flinging an orb of energy at her. She dodged it and vanished from sight.

"Pssst... Minsc!" She reappeared seconds later on the other side of the room. "I need you to hit this with your hammer."

Imoen held out the ring; for a second she thought she saw an eye with a narrow slit like pupil looking through the jewel at her, but there was no time to investigate that. She placed it on the floor and stepped back, while Minsc brought his hammer crashing down, grinding the gem into dust. Then Kalah stopped laughing.

In fact he screamed as one of Yoshimo's bolts went through his hand. Without stopping to worry about why he had suddenly become vulnerable, Jaheira danced around him slashing at his legs with her scimitar and he slumped to his knees. Next, Aerie's Acid Arrow struck him in the chest, burning and melting away his skin.

"No!" Kalah screamed. "This isn't supposed to happen!"

"Is there a problem, Lord Kalah?" The Genie appeared sitting on his little cloud just in front of the throne, grinning far wider and more ominously than he was before.

"This... this isn't what was promised!" The Ogre crawled on his hands and knees towards the Djinn. "I was promised a world I could rule! Where... where none would dare to laugh..."

"And so you had one. Unfortunately obtaining power and holding on to it are quite different things. And now that your fun is over, I think that I shall start amusing myself... with you."

"No!" Kalah screamed once more. The Djinn hovered over him and in a blinding flash of light they were both gone. And so, Imoen saw when she opened her eyes, was the tower. They were all stood on the sandy ground in the middle of a large Circus tent. Not a dog creature in sight, although there were a few other commoners who had presumably been trapped in the tower.

"Where's Uncle Quayle?" Aerie looked around desperately.

"Unfortunately, Aerrers," Imoen sighed sadly, "he's... back to normal," she stood aside, revealing the old Gnome just as he was putting his spectacles back on.

"Uncle Quayle!" The Elf ran and scooped the Gnome up into her arms.

"Ohhh... my back!" He winced.

"Sorry, Uncle," she smiled sheepishly, putting him back down.

"It's fine, dear. I knew all along there was nothing to worry about; Kalah was bound to trip on himself eventually."

"Um," Imoen shook her head, "I quote; 'he can't be defeated... you all need to run'. Those were your exact words."

"Just staying in character; I didn't think any of you would be fooled so easily."

"Uh... huh..."

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Uncle," Aerie beamed.

"Yes... well, about that," Quayle looked softly at the Elf for a moment, "you know you're the closest thing to a daughter I have ever or will ever have. But you know I... I heard everything in there," he said, turning away suddenly, "and I was of course thinking anyway that... that maybe you have learnt enough from me. Maybe... maybe it's time you left and started to learn on your own."

"Uncle?" The Elf said, her face full of not wholly unpleasant surprise.

"Maybe the Gods planned it this way; maybe you were supposed to leave here and help Imoen on her quests... I don't know. But I know now it was wrong of me to keep you here."

"So... you're... you're saying I can go? With Imoen?"

"With my blessing, girl."

"Oh... U-uncle... thank you!" She smiled widely even through her teary eyes. Quayle turned back around, likewise crying, as he embraced her again.

"You just remember to come back and visit me sometimes."

"I will. Take care of the circus while I'm away, okay?"

Imoen smiled too. Okay, so, it had been a less than perfect day, but now she really felt like there was a point in waking up tomorrow. It was cheesy, maybe... seeing all that genuine affection and emotion just made her feel good. Not that she cared if anyone else thought it was cheesy; screw those buffleheads, too buffleheaded to understand that some things in life really were just nice, okay?

"Am I to understand that this girl is coming with us, now?" Some things in life were tough as well, though. Imoen turned to Jaheira.

"Yup. That's what I've decided," Imoen blinked and nodded affirmatively.

"What you've decided?" The Druid arched an eyebrow.

"I've also decided that from now on I'm going to make a lot more decisions. I'm tired of just being led around, Jae. I'm glad you're here, and I hope you'll still help me, but... I want to start leading my own life."

"She seems so... inexperienced."

"She's a lot better than I was when we first met, remember? You saw how she can use magic... and she can actually keep a pretty level head in a crisis, too."

"But we should be pursuing Irenicus!" Jaheira insisted, "I have no time to babysit another naive child."

"You won't have to. I told you; it's my decision. As for... for him, don't think the Cowled Wizards will have already disposed of that?"

"Forgive the intrusion," Yoshimo said, having been listening to their conversation, "I know you probably think this is none of my business, but if there is any chance this Irenicus is still alive, then he will almost try to get you again. Better to track him down first, no? At least make sure the Cowled Wizards really have taken care of him."

"Yes... I do think it is none of your business," Jaheira said, then turned back to Imoen, "yet I have to agree with everything he just said. I have no real objection to the girl coming along; she clearly demonstrated that she has some promise. But it is in all our interests to make sure that Irenicus can no longer be threat."

Of course, Imoen couldn't help thinking that revenge was really what was foremost on Jaheira's mind right now. Which would have been perfectly understandable. But she felt far from ready to take on anyone that powerful, intelligent and cold hearted yet... she really hoped the Wizards had some sense and didn't just try to lock him up somewhere.

"Look... I'm tired, Jae. Let's just find a bed and sleep on it, okay?"


	8. Ch 7: Mistress of the Night

**Out Of The Shadows**

**Chapter Seven:**

**Mistress of the Night**

"…I-it's not safe to be out so late at night," Aerie said, yawning. Imoen had let her have her shelf, which in the Elf's world passed for a bed, back. Soon after all the business with Kalah had concluded the adrenaline had worn off Aerie's body and she suddenly felt exhausted, and Quayle agreed to try and find room for all of them for tonight. Minsc was off flexing his muscles with the circus strong men, Yoshimo was delighted to be sharing a caravan with a juggler and Jaheira… well, a few caravans were vacant now and Imoen made sure the druid got one all to herself.

Tomorrow, Imoen hoped, they'd get to sleep in proper with soft mattresses and feathered pillows; a treat for Aerie to look forward to, to be sure. A treat for all of them after… well, she was digressing. Again.

"Why's that?" the redhead asked, sitting down on another shelf.

"I-I don't know, exactly," the Elf admitted, "I-I just hear people talking, sometimes, w-when they come here. They say there's been a lot of fighting, a lot of people dead. I… I tried to sneak out once to see if I could see anything, b-but Quayle stopped me," Aerie said, looking a little unhappy about it. "It, probably doesn't happen so close to the Circus, anyway, since there's always people awake here, doing… something…" Aerie started to rub her eyes, snapping them open again at the sound of thunder rumbling over them. The Elf relaxed again almost right away; she had known there was a storm on its way, after all.

"Hmmm," Imoen nodded thoughtfully. She'd forgotten to ask Jaheira if they actually had any money; she certainly didn't, and Aerie had only a few coppers scraped together. As well as an inn with beds and a hot bath, they needed better equipment. Aerie had her sword, but she needed some decent travelling gear and dress; a tunic, cloak, boots… Imoen thought that blue was more Aerie's colour, like the sky, and her eyes, and her general mood. And then do something with her hair; it was lovely hair, but Imoen had to get her to at least tie it back when they were going into battle, or something. She'd noticed that Aerie favoured her left hand as well; most people fought with their right. She did okay with it. Better than Imoen could have done this same time last year but maybe, if she didn't mind, Jaheira could help her to protect herself better. Maybe it would help take her mind off things as well…

Yes, Imoen was making plans; thinking things through. Making all these important decisions. She was a leader now; she had responsibility. And she wasn't going to make a complete codswallops of this like she had done so many other things… Irenicus hadn't won. He'd made her stronger. She'd been afraid of Jaheira wanting to go after him; she guessed she knew, deep down, that even after the Cowled Wizards had taken him away it wasn't going to be the last she saw of Irenicus. He'd be back, but this time she'd be ready for him. After she'd had a long soak, and provided it wasn't a thirdday – those were never good for her. But apart from that, she would be ready… oh, and she needed to get the lay of the land. Fighting in the streets, eh? There had been two factions fighting one and another in that dungeon as well… see, she had been listening she just had other things on her mind as well.

"Is it always like this?" Aerie asked, holding her own hands above herself to see if they were still shaking at all.

"Uh… like what?" Imoen asked, shaking her red hair. The new girl wanted some guidance, and as a responsible big sister type it was her job to give it.

"When… w-when I was fighting the monsters, I was so scared, b-but… alive, as well. Like Jaheira was saying, I think. Fight or flight, and I chose to fight. .."

"Well, you didn't really choose to, did you? You just ran off without giving anyone a chance to talk any sense into ya…"

"… I-I think I liked it…"

"Yeah, it's a powerful feeling all right; looking death in the eye and kicking him in the codswallops," Imoen closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She could feel herself now, starting to drift into sleepy land. "Hm… sometimes though, you find yourself looking death in the eye, or eye socket or whatever, and you think this time there's no way out… but then, you've got nothing to lose so just kick him again."

"Uh… huh…" Aerie said, turning all that over in her head in a futile attempt to make sense of it. To be honest, Imoen was ashamed of what she'd just said too; kicking an anthropomorphic representation of something in the codswallops? It sort of sounded cool in her head, but actually it was a load of buffleheaded drivel, wasn't it?

"Heh," Imoen grinned, trying to hide her shame, "listen, get a nice long nap tonight. Tomorrow I'll spar with ya. If you're lucky, kid, Jaheira will give you some pointers too…"

"Oh. And… i-if I'm unlucky?"

"She'll offer to give you a practical demonstration," Imoen winked and put out the lamp. She had almost made herself comfortable on the shelf, when Aerie said:

"May… maybe I'd learn more just watching you two…"

"No," Imoen answered promptly and decisively.

"Oh," Aerie gulped, and soon they were both asleep.

* * *

Far to the north, Eldoth Kron was just waking up. His head felt like it had a dwarf jumping up and down inside it with a hammer. Had he been drinking? He couldn't remember, but then… wait. Why couldn't he move his arms, or his legs for that matter? He tugged and strained his body, but found his wrists and ankles were bound quite firmly together. How did that happen? His next appointment with Impedimenta wasn't for several days, was it? No he'd been attacked… shot in the back. Betrayed! Poor dear must have been having another one of her funny turns… he'd talk sense into her. For some reason he was lying close to the entrance to a sewer; it must have been night time still. He could hear and smell the sea… Skie hadn't dragged him here by herself though. There had been someone else with her… some little witch…

He twisted his head, squinting he could make out a shape looming over him, which as his eyes adjusted became a dark haired thirteen year old girl scowling viciously at him. Yes, that was the witch all right…

Tenya lifted her staff, and knocked him out again.

"What did you do that for?" Skie gasped.

"I've read stories," the young priestess said, tossing her hair back and folding her arms across her chest, "I know what will happen if he wakes up."

"What?" Skie said with a wicked little grin, the brown haired former noble suddenly curious to know what kind of books Tenya had read. "What do you think will happen?"

"He'll start to use his words, his _nice_ words, on you. He'll say that he forgives you, and that he still loves you and you can still run away together and be happy… and _you, _being the weak willed, soft bellied turtle that you are will believe him and once you have untied him, he will strangle you and escape."

"Right," Skie narrowed her eyes, "so… you're just looking out for me, then? That's nice."

"You have been of use to me, so far," Tenya said, and then switched quickly from angry little girl to primly reciting church doctrine, "Umberlee does not forget those who serve her well."

"You mentioned you might have lost some favour with Umberlee," Skie said, deliberately goading her now. Whatever she said, Tenya actually needed her right now to carry out her wishes. "That's why we have to make this journey by land."

"I don't exactly have permission to be doing this," the little Umberlant snorted, "the Bitch Queen has not abandoned me, but it's best not to tempt her wrath for the time being."

"So, you've run away from the Water Queen's house, huh? What was it… were some bigger, meaner girls picking on you?"

"Are you _trying_ to start a fight with me!" Tenya screeched, turning on the woman with her shoulders hunched and her face all red. "I have drowned much bigger cats than you, you know!"

"Alright, alright," Skie looked like a conductor as she tried to make some calming hand gestures, "I'm sorry." Maybe she was in danger of going a bit too far with that, or of striking too close to the bone, maybe. Goading Tenya didn't really make her feel any better about herself anyway. She wasn't expecting bards to write any ballads about a twenty one year old woman bravely standing up to a thirteen year old girl; what a hero!

"In any case," she said, "you can't keep knocking him out like that."

"Why not?" Tenya asked, looking genuinely perplexed.

"Well, it'll kill him eventually won't it? Then you won't be able to show him to Imoen, for whatever reason you want to do that for. And we'll need him awake to feed him; I'm not doing all that myself. You might not be around every time he wakes up, anyway…"

"You're right," Tenya thought hard for a second, "but, I can't risk him talking to you. I shall just have to cut out his tongue."

"Y… er, what?" Skie did a double take… that wasn't what she'd been expecting. She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but probably something more along the lines of Tenya realising she would have to trust her. Instead, the young priestess had already got hold of one of Eldoth's own knives as was hovering over him, seemingly a little unsure of what to do with it. "You can't do that!" She grabbed the girl's wrist and started to struggle with her; Tenya was surprisingly strong for her size, but Skie was relieved to find that she was in fact stronger and managed to wrestle the knife away.

"You see!" Tenya hissed and spat. "Already your resolve is weakening!"

"You can't cut out his tongue!"

"Why not!"

"Because… because… oh! Because, what if Imoen wants to speak to him, huh? Did you think about that?"

"You… do have a point, I suppose," Tenya conceded, although she was very unhappy to do so. Skie had no idea why Tenya had become so attached to Imoen, but at least there was a way of controlling her. "Those friends you mentioned had better show up soon," the girl said, kicking a small stone down the tunnel.

Skie hoped so too, for a number of reasons. She'd paid some urchins to carry her messages across the city; hopefully they did and didn't just take her money. And hopefully the people who received them didn't just take one look at who it was from and screw the letters up and throw them out of the window, thinking it might be a wedding invitation or something… like that was ever going to happen, anyway. She wondered if it was at all possible to mend things with her family now that she realised what a stupid idiot she'd been… she wondered if she could face the humiliation… why was she the only person in the world fooled by him?

No… no point in beating herself up now. Focus on the quest, and maybe that will keep her sane for a while at least.

"They're not all friends of mine," she admitted, "but they all knew Imoen, at least. So I'm hoping they'd all be willing to help her. I mean, she's annoying, but she's basically nice to everyone, right?"

They waited in silence at the end of the tunnel. And waited. Skie started to worry she hadn't given proper directions… she was going to look pretty stupid if no one came…

"Maybe you should have sent letters to people who didn't know Imoen?" Tenya yawned, "that way we could have lied and said we were going to rescue a really great hero…"

"Oh, just shut u…" Skie's head snapped to her side suddenly. "Did… did you hear that?"

"Yes," the priestess nodded. There had definitely been a large 'splodge' from further down the tunnel, like someone stepping in a muddy puddle, maybe… there were a few creatures that roamed the sewers as well. Slimes, kobolds, the odd zombie…

"Well," Tenya straightened herself, "you'd better go and see what it was, then."

"Me?" Skie's eyes widened, partly out of fear, but also partly because Skie Silvershield still didn't like being given orders by commoners, especially nasty thirteen year old commoners who might have been ordering her to her death for all she knew. "Why should I go?"

"Because you're the grown up?" The priestess helpfully suggested. Skie wasn't impressed. "Fine," Tenya said, rolling her eyes and picking up her staff. "I will go then, shall I? Just leave the kid to take care of everything… wimp."

Tenya started treading softly, and quietly down the tunnel. Skie didn't know why; they were at the end of tunnel illuminated by the moonlight. Anyone inside it could see them easily… she supposed she was going to have to go and help the brat.

"Halt!" A woman's voice commanded, just as Skie had caught up to the Priestess. "Come no further… let me have a look at you…" the one commanding them stepped forward, although still clinging to the shadows, just at the edge of the moonlight. They could just make out her shape; she looked like someone wearing a long, dark, shroud. "I want to see who it is who dares to summon me in the middle of the night… I do not know the tiny one, but _you_…" red eyes lashed out of the darkness into Skie, "the girl who is a slave to males. First her father, and then…"

"Viconia," the young woman took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, avoid taking the bait. She'd heard a rumour that a Drow, or Dark Elf, had entered the city in the last few days. She hadn't really expected… and she'd forgotten what an agitating person Viconia could be. Why did she have to show up first? She was just getting the hang of handling Tenya…

"But you are fine specimen of your race, are you not?" Viconia stepped forward, pulling back the hood of her dark blue cloak to reveal her silver white hair and coal black skin. She glided toward Skie, and then arm snaked out, cupping the young woman's chin as she stared into her large, brown eyes. "So… pretty. So strong. So naïve and simple. You know, I used to think often about killing you, just to see what the look on your face would be."

"Who are you calling tiny?" Tenya had one hand on her staff, and the other on her hip. Viconia looked down and sideways at her, annoyed by the interruption. Skie however, was very grateful.

"Well," the Drow let go of the young woman and turned toward the small priestess. "You're a pretty one as well. Make yourself useful, dalhar, and carry this," Viconia was holding a small pack under her other arm, which she tossed at the surprised Tenya who had to drop her staff to catch it. She paid the two of them no further heed, and went to examine the flesh heap lying on the ground. The young Umberlant blinked a few times, before snarling and throwing the pack against the brickwork. She was stomping after Viconia, probably about to try and make the Drow woman show her respect, but Skie managed to catch her and hold her back.

"Let me go!" Tenya squealed, kicking and punching wildly as Skie fought to restrain her. "I… I will jump up and down on her corpse until I've ground her whole body into salt!"

"You… you want her to help you!" Skie spun Tenya around, grasping her by the shoulders as she fixed her with the hardest stare she could manage. To her surprise, the Umberlant settled almost immediately and stared back, waiting… "Er, just let me handle it, okay?"

"Fine," Tenya snorted, tossing her head back non-chalantly. "You explain things to her."

"So," Viconia looked up from Eldoth, seeming mildly amused. "Are you that girl's… what is it you say… guardian, now?"

"Well… no, not exactly," the brown haired woman cleared her throat. Although, for some reason she hadn't wanted to see Tenya humiliated. Not by Viconia anyway. Maybe she did feel a little bit of responsibility for the little priestess. Maybe she just knew she stood more of a chance with Tenya than with Vic. "To be honest, I'm not really sure how we've ended up together. She just burst into my room yesterday and then one thing led to another and then Eldoth started being really nasty and I… I shot him. In the back," Skie bowed her head.

"So, you've finally had enough of your male and now you need help disposing of him, is that it? I have some powerful acid that will dissolve the corpse, although we may have to cut him into smaller pieces first…"

"No!" The young woman gasped again in horror. "That's… that's not it." She didn't think her resolve was weakening, but she and Imoen and everyone all deserved a proper explanation of what he had done, and it was only humane to give him a chance to tell it, was it not? Before they… well, what was she expecting they would do to him? Maybe that was it. She didn't want to judge him on her own. She thought it would be easier if everyone involved shared the responsibility…

"What kind of acid?" Tenya asked, tilting her head.

"Oil of Vitriol," the Drow explained, "highly concentrated, of course."

"Ah… sulphuric acid. That could dissolve a body all right," Tenya nodded approvingly, "but you'd still need a barrel of the stuff…"

"I have it. That is a bag of holding," the Drow nodded to the pack Tenya had thrown away earlier.

"Really?" Tenya's eyes lit up, like other, normal children's eyes would if they just found a stocking full of toys. "What other things are in there?" She turned around, but Viconia… Skie hadn't even seen her move. She seemed to have instantly covered the distance from Eldoth to Tenya, holding out a mace, which had appeared from nowhere, to block the girl's progress.

"Things that are not for dalharen to play with…" The Drow hissed warningly.

"I'm not scared of you, Drow woman!" The Umberlant looked up and hissed back.

"Is that so?" Viconia lowered the mace, a small, wicked smile appearing on her face. "Your Goddesses realm is the sea, is it not? She controls the waves… out there," she nodded out toward the ocean.

"So?"

"So, _mine_, surrounds everything. The land, the sea, the entire world, moon and even the sun… and, of course, you, right now."

Tenya looked around herself. What surrounded her was… was darkness. She gulped.

"Shar?" She said, shivering slightly as she named the Mistress of the Night. Viconia maintained her smile. "Well," Tenya straightened up, folding her arms over her chest, "I'm one girl who's not scared of the dark. So there."

"Will… will you two stop!" Skie yelled, putting her foot down.

"What? I wasn't starting anything!" Tenya protested, "I was just thinking, maybe we could put Eldoth in that bag of holding, then we could carry him to Athkatla easily."

"Athkatla?" Viconia arched an eyebrow.

"It's another large conurbation some ways south of here," Skie explained, starting to get grumpy. It really wasn't ideal company for her.

"I have heard of it," Viconia sneered, "why do you wish to go there?"

"Because we think that's where Imoen's gone. She disappeared, you see, and all her companions."

"Yes, I see… although I do not see how it concerns me."

"Well, she… she helped you, didn't she? When you were being pursued by the Fist…"

"Her choice," Viconia shrugged, "and not the one I would have made in her place. So I still don't see how it concerns me."

"But her… her life might be in danger!"

"Have I not been making myself clear? I care nothing for the yapping puppy, or her so called friends. And what does he have to do with it?" The Drow gestured to Eldoth's crumpled form.

"We found out that he'd betrayed them, for gold… and, and then he was going to kill Tenya, and I… I had no choice…"

"You shot him… yes, I heard that bit. And now you want to take the betrayer to the ones he betrayed so that they may have their revenge, yes?"

"Well… I suppose so, yes."

"Good. That, I can be a part of."

"You'll help, then?" Skie gasped in disbelief.

"I have nothing better to do," Viconia waved her hand, "I did recently have a problem with some rivvin farmers. They're not a problem anymore."

"The Fist are after you again, aren't they?" The young woman guessed.

"They're always after me. But I feel perhaps I have outstayed my, welcome, in these lands, so I will accompany you to another."

"Well, that's one, anyway…" Skie gasped suddenly as she found herself being flung aside as Viconia started to spin around.

Dazed and confused, she looked up to see the Drow woman using a buckler she had attached to her forearm to deflect an arrow aimed at her… deflect it so it embedded itself in the ground right next to Skie's cheek. They all looked around for the source of it, but he wasn't keeping himself hidden. It was a dark haired elven man, in a dark green tunic and leathers. As they watched, he coolly loaded his bow again to take another shot at the Drow… but then, with a small smirk, he lowered it. He stepped forward, coolly, slowly, never once taking his eyes off the Drow. But when he reached her, he turned to Skie.

"Two," he said, "and three more behind me." And then Kivan sat down against the damp brick wall.

"Ha! Like I'd let all you lot waltz off and have all the fun!" A wild haired Elven man said, his face bearing the lines of his almost perpetual grin.

"It has been a while since I've been to Amn," a woman with long, dark auburn hair said, "I wonder what the ladies are wearing now?"

"Coran… Safana… Xan?" The last one surprised Skie; she hadn't even sent out for a message for him.

"Oh, Seldarine… what did I just tread in?" Xan grumbled, hitching up his purple robes.

"I thought you'd gone back to Evereska," Skie said.

"No… never made it. Got kidnapped by Orcs and had to make my way back here after I barely escaped. I suppose it's just my lot in life, really, to have Lady Luck defecate on me at every turn… but don't mind me. I'm just a poor, broken, trampled on…"

"Yeah, really, don't mind him at all. Think about clothes instead," Safana slapped Skie on the back, "a dear old friend of mine went into a store in Athkatla once to buy shoes, and got lost in there for seven months. When they found her she'd turned feral, poor thing, living off leather sandals and the odd mouse. Oh, but you and I are going to have such a good time there! Despite Xan's reluctance, the rest of us are going to have a good time! This'll be such a fun trip!"

"Yes, well, I'm just going to come out and say it."

"Say what?" Safana looked back at Xan while she still had her arm around Skie.

"We're all doomed."


	9. Ch 8: The Edge of the World

**Out Of The Shadows**

**Chapter Eight:**

**The Edge of the World**

Never judge a book by its cover… that's what Imoen had been taught in Candlekeep, where they certainly had a lot of books so presumably knew what they were talking about. The monks there strove to have a copy of every book ever written on Toril, adding a mile of shelf every year. That meant that if Imoen ever finished writing her book, '1001 Ways To Really Annoy A Candlekeep Monk', then somewhere in it's vast, dusty old halls, someone was going to have to store a copy of it. She'd been forced to leave her childhood home and it was unlikely she would ever be able to return, but it was nice to think that she could live on there in some small way. And, who knew, maybe in a couple of century's time some bored little girl would find her book and be inspired by it.

Ah… but she had to stop all this digressing. Terrible habit that she had; she kept digressing while writing her book as well. That was why it was taking so long, but… anyway… never judge a book by its cover. The living proof of that axiom was standing opposite her in a little makeshift ring they had prepared; they'd drawn a circle in some dirt. Both Imoen and Aerie were armed with wooden swords and shields; like the Avariel had said, the circus sometimes staged mock battles and so there were a number of practice weapons around. And while they practiced, the bustle of the Circus and other business in The Promenade that morning went on around them as usual, despite all the recent events. Humanity was resilient in that way.

The thing was, almost anything you might assume about Aerie just by looking at her was likely to turn out to be wrong. If you assumed she was some dumb or fake blonde, you were just completely wrong. But if you assumed she was just a completely sweet, innocent, wouldn't hurt a fly the little wingless angel, you were wrong again. There was anger in her, willingness to fight. Imoen had first really seen it when Aerie had stood up, clenching her fists after being pushed by Tira, just able to stop herself punching the bully which would have ended disastrously for the Elf at that moment. And then again when she'd rushed off, utterly determined to save Quayle despite all Imoen's sage advice... Imoen was glad to have seen it though, because to survive in the world out there you needed a little bit of anger and determination sometimes.

The problem she was experiencing now though, was that while Aerie had no problem swinging her glass sword at illusionary beasts, she was extremely reluctant to take a swing at Imoen even with just a wooden one.

"Hey, kid… don't worry about hurting me," Imoen guessed that was the problem; wooden swords could still sting quite a bit. It probably didn't help the blonde either that, even though it was still early, there were still quite a few people about who could see them. The Elf kept glancing all around, then quickly lowering and hiding her head every time she thought someone was glancing in her direction.

"B-but…" the Elf stuttered, looking uncertainly at the weapon she carried in her hand.

"Listen; we do this sort of thing all the time," the redhead explained. Even though both she and Aerie were spellcasters, they couldn't always rely on magic. You could run out of components, or if enemies got too close they could make it seriously hard to concentrate on casting. Although rare, there were even places and artefacts in the world that could cancel out magic completely. In Amn there was the additional problem of the Cowled Wizards possibly beaming in if you were seen casting battle magic in the open. So it was important they be able to defend themselves using more conventional means as well, at least well enough so they could escape or survive long enough for the likes of Minsc or Jaheira to rescue them.

"I won't get mad or start hating you even if you do beat me. Of course," Imoen stretched herself, holding her wooden sword across the back of her own neck very casually, "there's really not much chance of that, anyway, is there? I seriously doubt your best shot would even come close… " _Ah, there,_ Imoen grinned. There was definitely a flash in Aerie's eyes.

"I… I'm not weak, you know," the blonde grumbled slightly.

"Yeah? Well why don't you prove it, kiddo?"

"I-it's just that…"

"What?"

"Well," Aerie took a deep breath, "I-I think the only reason you're making me wear this shield is so I have to hold my sword in my right hand, and you know I'm left handed…"

"Aerie!" Imoen gasped in mock horror, "as if I would resort to such underhanded tactics just to win a friendly sparring match… what kind of person do you think I am? I'm, frankly, shocked, that you would have such a low opinion of me, after all we've already been through together. I… I thought you liked me," she hung her head and then shook it slowly, her lower lip appearing to tremble slightly. "How… how can you say such nasty things? Accuse me like that? But, I suppose if that's what you think, I'll just leave you alone here, then… with your guilt."

"No! T-that's not what I," Aerie gasped in actual horror, not wanting to be left anywhere or to have upset… but then, her look changed to one of suspicion. "You… y-you're mocking me, aren't you?"

"No Aerie, I would never mock a nice person like you," Imoen looked up and returned Aerie's narrow gaze. "I would never say they ye're just trying to make excuses 'cause you already know you're gonna lose, yer weak kneed, lily-livered knave, you."

"Stop it. If… i-if you think you'll beat me easily then… you're wrong," the Avariel boldly declared, grinning a little as she assumed a fight stance. "From what I've seen and heard, y-you're not all that much better than me. I'm going to try my best!"

Aerie certainly made good on that promise. Imoen was taken completely by surprise at the speed of her attack, immediately forcing the redhead back and on the defensive. Obviously, she was no Jaheira, who had devoted much of her life to martial pursuits, but for an amateur who had learnt just by watching actors she was in fact quite skilled even with her weaker hand, the redhead only just managing to block and avoid most of her attacks. There was a horrible moment for Imoen as she started to fear she was actually going to be embarrassed by the newbie. That was all her self-confidence needed right now…

But, Imoen recovered. Aerie moved with surprising and showed surprising agility as dodged out of the way of one of the redhead's few early attempts to counter attack. But as quick as she was, Imoen was just a bit quicker. She fell back, blocking sometimes, occasionally countering but with no real conviction; it was just to encourage Aerie to keep moving forward. She felt that if the Elf managed to corner her, the blonde might be able to give a real hammering. But, so long as she stayed just out of reach… she felt and heard Aerie's breath when they locked. Fast, heavy… the Elf couldn't keep this up for too long. The redhead grinned and winked as she broke away. It wasn't long before Aerie started to slow down, and gradually the tide of battle shifted toward Imoen being on the offensive. Finally she broke through the Elf's guard, striking her across the chest with her shield. When Aerie opened her eyes, she found herself looking up at Imoen who had her sword pointed down at her neck.

"You're dead," Imoen chirpily pronounced. Aerie shut her eyes again, and groaned frustratedly and miserably. "That was way, way too easy," the redhead smiled victoriously, leaning back and resting the sword on the back of her neck once again.

"I… I-I could have… could have had you," the Elf insisted, still trying to catch her breath as she crawled slowly to her knees.

"Yeah… you could have," the redhead admitted. She was finding it hard to think of any really useful tips she could give… Jaheira really should have been out here, but as far as Imoen could tell the fighter and druid hadn't woken up yet. Not that she was expecting things to go back to normal so soon, or ever, really… but it felt odd. Jaheira was usually the first up, right at dawn.

"Anyway," Imoen said, dropping her weapons and holding out a hand to the defeated Elf, "don't be too disheartened, kid. I am a really famous and beautiful hero, after all…"

"Left hand," Aerie said suddenly as she pulled herself back up.

"What?" The redhead blinked in surprise.

"I-I think I can fight better with my left hand," the Avariel explained, "so let's lose the shields. Oh, u-unless of course," the Elf said with a little smile appearing on her lips, "you're afraid of me hurting your looks, oh beautiful hero…"

"Aw… shucks, Aerie. You really wanna end up on a temple slab on your first day, huh?" Imoen laughed. Of course, she had known that Aerie would be at a disadvantage using her right, but that was the way you had to fight with a shield or else you'd leave your whole left side exposed, so she'd wanted Aerie to get used to it. She supposed after winning the first round, it was okay to let Aerie have something her own way though. "Oh well… if you insist," she sighed a tad theatrically, picking up her sword while the Elf did the same.

They faced off again, both determined not to lose. Aerie wanted to prove that she could fight, and Imoen… well, it just wouldn't do to let the new girl win. Got to leave her with something to aim for. But, they were smiling nonetheless. They both wanted to test themselves, become better, stronger, and at the end of it they would both get to walk away with no hard feelings. Well, maybe some hard feeling for an hour or two, but after that they'd get over it.

Before the second round could actually begin however, one of the caravan doors flew open and that jungle woman, Tira, tumbled out. Imoen had chosen this spot for their practice for a reason, and that reason was she wanted to see the results of last night's foray. She gestured for Aerie to stand down, and turned to face the bully as the performer picked herself up.

"Well now," Imoen said with a big grin as she crossed her arms, "that's… a bold new look for you, isn't it?"

Tira, her hair dyed bright green, looked up at the Elf and the redhead standing side by side. Slowly, realisation seemed to dawn on her, and her face started into a feral snarl that suited her costume. She was about to rush at them, but more pressing matters were upon her… she suddenly blinked, her mouth and eyes becoming perfectly round as she crossed her legs and started to bob on her knees slightly. She then did rush, away from them, to find a latrine.

Imoen shared a satisfied giggle with her new elven friend. It had been worth the wait.

* * *

It was short time later when Jaheira found herself squinting as she opened the door to her caravan. The Sun seemed like a strange sight to her.

She supposed Imoen thought she was doing a favour, making sure that old Gnome gave a place she could be alone. But in truth, the isolation had done her little good. It was the first time in a long she had rested somewhere alone… she hadn't rested well. Awake half the night, remembering, remembering that all she could do now was remember, and weeping sporadically… she supposed she was glad no one had seen that, especially Imoen. Although, after her initial breakdown, Imoen seemed to be coping quite well, now. Maybe she didn't need Jaheira to be strong after all. Maybe she needed a friend, and that's what she seemed to have found in Aerie.

The druid slowly made her way outside. The world around her didn't seem real, like she could see it but she wasn't really a part of it. Unfortunately, she knew it was and everything that had happened the last few days hadn't been a dream. This world was real, and so she was going to have to deal with it. Not so long ago, she thought she could beat the world into whatever shape she wanted to be. The folly and arrogance of youth.

She walked, starting to feel the Sun on her skin, not really thinking about where she was going. She was going to have to fit into the world, somehow. What had anchored her here up to now had been… taken. But Khalid wouldn't want her to stop; he would want her to keep going, and keep their promise to watch over the child. Where it he alive and not her, that's what she would have wanted too. And so that is what she would do, while giving herself a new purpose, a new reason to live and stay anchored to this world.

Those damn wizards had better not have done anything stupid. No one was to kill Irenicus except her. If he was alive, he was bound to attempt to recapture Imoen eventually… although she felt it better to go after him first, rather than let him plan everything again. There was also the matter of Eldoth Kron; she hadn't failed to notice that he was the only with them that night who hadn't been in the dungeon. But he was nothing. He could wait. She would use every resource available to her to find him at some point, but after dealing with Irenicus.

In the meantime, she had to find out what Imoen's plans were. The girl seemed to want to start being more independent, make her own decisions… but Jaheira was of course going to make damn well sure that she made all the right ones.

It wasn't hard to find Imoen. She heard the all the clattering of the wooden practice weapons and found her ward sparring with that blonde haired elven girl, Aerie, the one who said she was Avariel. She certainly fit the description, minus wings… pale, almost white skin, eyes that were slightly larger in proportion to her head than most, which of course did give her a rather child-like face by other races standards, especially when combined with her other elven features.

Jaheira had said she had no objection to the Elf joining them, and she hadn't. She had proven she had courage, and skill in the use of magic and, watching her now, she wasn't completely terrible with a sword either, although she did need a lot more practice still and to work on her fitness. Coming from a travelling Circus, she could probably weather most of the hardships an adventurer would endure as well. At least, she presumably knew how to pitch a tent. So, if Imoen wanted a friend or a little sister along, this one was fine…

The only problem was they might not have much time before having to face Irenicus again. She gathered that Aerie, a former slave, hadn't seen much of the world outside of this Circus. That was not her fault, of course, but there were many out there who would very quickly take advantage of a naïve and pretty young thing like that. There was no time to break her in gently; she was going to have to figure things out and get tougher, fast. And let's face it, it wasn't going to be Imoen who took care of that, was it? No, it was all going to fall to Jaheira, again…

She watched the pair of them fighting for quite a while, even though she found it one of the saddest spectacles she had ever beheld. Aerie… her stance was all wrong. And Imoen… did she practice anything Jaheira had taught her? They fell and rolled around, wrestling each other like children… and they laughed. They _actually_ laughed… Jaheira gritted her teeth, started clenching her fists, suddenly very furious.

Did they think it was a game? That any of _this_ was a game? Did they think their enemies would run them through, and then shrug and apologise and everyone carry on like nothing had happened… like no one had died…

No… no. Calm down… overreacting just a tad there, dear. She should not begrudge the girls whatever enjoyment they had, even if she was finding it hard to be light hearted at a time like this. She did though; she was still furious. But she didn't have to show it. She tried to focus instead on what she needed to do to help them both improve.

Imoen was getting the better of her rather less experienced opponent. Aerie's main weakness was her stamina, and she obviously knew it too. That was probably why she kept trying to rush Imoen and finish her quickly. Unfortunately, time and again she didn't quite manage to and was then very vulnerable to the counter attack. They could work on her stamina, and in the meantime she should learn to pace herself better, slow it down to what she could manage, make her opponent come to her more. And as for Imoen, Jaheira had obviously already worked on her quite a bit. Still, her strikes were clumsy and amateurish, hardly improved at all since she'd first met her… a lot more practice. For both of them. Today though, let them have their fun.

"They seem to be enjoying themselves, don't they?" Jaheira looked down and saw the old Gnome, Quayle, standing beside her. She had no idea how long he had been.

"Yes," she agreed, "they seem to be." At the moment, she was still finding it very hard to empathise with anyone enjoying themselves, though.

"I've never seen Aerie laugh like that," the old Gnome sighed, "she's always so… withdrawn. Usually very quiet when she meets people for the first time. And then Imoen comes along and suddenly she's… doing all this," he gestured at the pair, still fighting and giggling, despite all the eyes now surely on them.

"Imoen stores a lot of energy for one person. Sometimes it infects others."

"It's… nice to see, isn't it?"

"I suppose so," Jaheira sighed. In truth, neither of them really seemed committed to that statement.

"Heh… I should be happier for her, shouldn't I? Hmph… instead, I feel like the world has ended, and been replaced by a much stranger one," the old Gnome said. Jaheira watched him curiously as he started to hobble away. "It's always like that when you lose someone dear to you."

"You… you have not lost her," the Druid, said, perplexed by the statement that seemed to echo her own feelings, even though the situation was clearly very different. "She is over there, still. And I am sure she will return to see you some time in the future."

"Hm, yes, but will I be here?" The Gnome turned back with a gentle smile. "When you're as old as I am… well, if you're lucky you won't get to be as old as I am."

"Do not talk to me in riddles. I do not have a head for them. I have a head for head-butting people, but not for that," Jaheira sighed wearily.

"Well… you know, I was married once, a very long time ago."

"You were?" Jaheira raised an eyebrow, finding that rather hard to believe for some reason.

"Oh, I haven't always been the wise old sage you see before you now. When I was young I had lots of lovely young ladies after me. It was the pointy hat, you see; girls love a Gnome who looks good in a pointy hat. But there was one in particular I fell for; we were going to settle down, raise a family together. But it never happened."

"Did she die?" Jaheira asked, not sure whether she should sound sympathetic or not.

"What? No. She left me for someone else; one of those blasted Jansens. They've always been stealing from me, that lot. Stole a lot of my best inventions, too," the old Gnome grumbled with what seemed like genuine resentment. "Anyway… I never got over it. Never remarried, never settled down until now. And then I realised that I'd become an old man with no real family left. I suppose, in my addled old brain, I thought Aerie could take the place of one. That she would continue my legacy after I am gone," he looked back at the Elf and Imoen again, sadly. "I never paid any attention to what she wanted. Oh, she tried to tell me many times, so did a few others, I knew she was growing more and more restless but… I was really no better than the Slavers who brought her here. Tried to keep her locked in a cage, all to myself. How could I have expected her to want to stay, after all they did to her here? And so I've lost her. And now I'm just a lonely old man again."

"She… seems a nice enough girl," Jaheira tried to reassure him; in truth, she didn't enough about Aerie yet, but she did seem nice, she supposed. "I am sure she must be grateful for all you have done for her."

"I know that. She's just… she's no longer my nice girl."

"Yes, well… everyone has fly the nest eventually," Jaheira said, "so long as she remains with us, I will see to it that no-one takes advantage of her, and that she is taught to look after herself."

"Thank you," Quayle said with a warm, grateful smile. "You know, Jaheira, you're really not such a bad person underneath that grumpy face. You're still young too, you know… you don't want to end up like me."

"You are absolutely right about that," Jaheira nodded, smiling slightly, "also, my face is stern not grumpy."

* * *

"W-what… what will we do, now?" Aerie sat up, panting. Imoen sat up opposite her, pretty exhausted too, so the two had mutually agreed to end their contest for today. Imoen knew she had won, so that was fine.

"Well… I guess… I guess we'll find a store and get some things," the redhead puffed, "and then… then we'll… I don't know… go somewhere else, I suppose. I suppose we'll have to see if we can find out what's happened to Irenicus."

"Hm… 'shattered one'," Aerie strangely said. They were both feeling that way, but…

"What?" Imoen asked.

"I,,, Irenicus. Shattered one… t-that's what it means. I-it's elven," Aerie said, now looking strangely at Imoen. "I… I thought you knew that."

"No," Imoen shook her head. Maybe Jaheira did, but she hadn't told her… the redhead had no idea whether it was important or not.

And that's right; Aerie was an Elf, wasn't she? Pretty obvious because of the ears, but Imoen really hadn't thought about it because Aerie seemed so, well, human, in a way. Most of the other Elves Imoen had met were a bit stuck up and arrogant, but Aerie was almost the total opposite of that… anyway, somewhere she had some papers she still had some papers she'd taken from inside the dungeon that she believed was a journal written in Elven. They'd be with her other belongings that were packed away when the Avariel had found her. She could get Aerie to translate it. It might not yield anything, but… later though. There were lots of other things to do first.

"Listen, kid," she said. This time, she and Aerie were helping each other to their feet. Both found themselves a bit unsteady once they did, and were leaning with their foreheads pressed against each other. "If you ever think you know something, please tell us, okay? At least tell me. Even if it turns out to be wrong, it's not anyone's going to shout at you or anything."

"O… okay."

"Great," Imoen patted her on the cheek, "now, let's get packed and ready, shall we?"

* * *

Early in the afternoon, the adventurers paid a visit to a store owned by some old acquaintance of Jaheira's, a jovial fat man named Ribald. His reaction to her was a puzzling mix of wariness and joy. It was called The Adventurers Mart, and it wasn't just a clever name for a shop that sold fishing and mountaineering equipment. It sold everything an adventurer needed.

Uncle Quayle had spared them a bit of coin, so they were able to get some basic equipment. Spell components, lockpicks, backpacks. For Aerie, she was out of her old dress and into a new tunic; sky blue, with grey pants. The colour suited her, just as Imoen had predicted. She also got some boots; big boots up to her knees, which Aerie loved. She immediately felt stronger and safer somehow as soon as she'd pulled them on. Imoen herself got a similar outfit, but hers was much darker, almost black, and had a hood. The rest of them had already helped themselves to some new armour and weapons yesterday.

And so, not long after Imoen and Aerie had got their clothes sorted out, which was the most important thing after all, the Avariel found herself once again stood at the archway exiting the west side of The Promenade. Today she was going to actually step through it… off the edge of the world, or her world anyway. For long time, this was the only thing she had wanted. But the thought scared her too. The Circus had so many unhappy memories, but even she wouldn't call it home, it was a place that was familiar and Quayle had taken care of her. But now she was going to make a new life for herself. Ever since she was a child she'd wanted to see the world; really see it, not just look at it from afar like other Avariel. Nothing that had happened to her had changed that, really. And Quayle's stories of his own adventures helped reignite some of her old passion. She had to be brave now, and take that first step into the unknown…

"What are you waiting for; summer solstice?"

"Oww…" Aerie rubbed the back of her head that had just been slapped by Imoen.

"Move it, kid."

"S… s-sorry…"


	10. Ch 9: Coo!

**Out Of The Shadows**

**Chapter Nine:**

**Coo!**

Although many things plagued her mind, Imoen had managed to sleep all through last night's storm. When she had woken that morning, the city streets were refreshed and clean. That didn't last long however, and by the time she left The Promenade the cesspits were starting to fill up again. She had heard stories and poems written about Athkatla, and how its streets were paved with gold… it wasn't. In fact, most of it didn't seem to be paved at all. The Promenade had been a spectacular bit of architecture with its stone steps and arches, but just beyond it were rows and rows of wooden shacks and houses and it seemed just the same problems as Baldur's Gate; lots of people with very little space to live in and barely adequate means of disposing of their waste, rats and packs of dogs scavenging on all of it. She suspected the bit of Athkatla she was in now was not the part of the city visiting bards went to.

They were following Jaheira, mainly because she was the only one of them with any clear idea about where she wanted to go. She was trying to find way across the river that split the city in two and into the Government District, hoping that among the civic buildings, administrators and bureaucrats, they would find some representative of The Cowled Wizards, and she said she had been to Athkatla before. They had been following Jaheira for the last hour.

"That's the third time I've seen that Dog," Imoen strafed around the beast in question, a dirty white bulldog with one eye that had tried ferociously to get to the Bhaalspawn during all their encounters; fortunately it was tied to a post. "We really gotta go through this again, Jae? Why can you never just admit that you're lost…"

"Quiet!" The Druid scowled. "I am not lost. I merely… have to get my bearings…"

"Y'know, stop me if this idea is too far out there. I'm just trying to think a little outside of the box here, but… why don't we just ask someone for directions?" Jaheira scowled at Imoen even more. "Right… dumb idea, obviously… out of interest, when was the last time you were here?"

"Just five years ago," the Druid grumbled, "blasted cities are constantly being changed… this whole street was not here then."

"Hm, yes," Yoshimo nodded, "I believe a fire burnt down several of these neighbourhoods about four years ago."

"Come to think of it," Imoen turned to face the Kara-Turran, tilting her head and raising one eyebrow, "don't you live here?"

"Indeed. For just a few months now."

"So, why have you been letting us wander around like blind Beholders for the last hour?"

"Ah, friends," Yoshimo had produced a small, thin pipe and was packing it with herbs that he claimed were medicinal. "I really think you are wasting your time trying to learn anything from The Cowled Wizards."

"As opposed to what we have just been doing all day?"

"It is just that they are not known for being forthcoming. I believe few people in the government know at all what it is they do with their prisoners. It strikes me as not likely they will share with a group of strange foreigners."

"I will make them forthcoming," Jaheira almost growled.

"Impressive though you are in battle, friend, as we all observed yesterday, the wizards are many whereas we are just five," Yoshimo said. A low rumble from Minsc forced him to correct his maths. "Forgive me… six," Minsc nodded satisfactorily, patting Boo.

He had a point, Imoen had to admit. They were just six, and two of them were unlicensed practitioners of magic as well. Magic was feared in Amn, more than common folk feared the big tapestry that covered the world catching fire and falling on them… it might be seen as a bit buffleheaded for her to go marching into the offices of people charged with policing magic and start demanding things from them.

"Well, I don't much fancy being whisked away and cooped up again like the nude painting stuffed in the back of a wizard's spellbook," Imoen pursed her lips as she thought out loud, "but, what's the alternative?"

"A less direct approach. There are other factions within this city; those with contacts and resources and whose cooperation can perhaps more easily be bought…"

"You mean the Shadow Thieves."

"Well, I did not say that, exactly."

"Doesn't take a Candlekeep sage, does it? Information is a commodity, right? And who else would be bold enough to pinch info from those hooded creeps, but another bunch of hooded creeps," Imoen's face screwed up and twisted even more. Contrary to what most people thought, she wasn't really in favour of stealing for any reason other than a laugh, and while a lone thief could simply be a desperate person trying to survive, when you started getting gangs and guilds you started getting all sorts of other nasty stuff coming into it. Still, they might be the only ones able to tell them about Irenicus… but were the Cowled Wizards really as secretive as everyone said? It wasn't like she wanted names and addresses of every one of them and their aunties and uncles. She just wanted to know if Irenicus was alive and if so, where; maybe they should at least try asking them first… but then, what would they do if he was? They could do with allies… so much to think about… Imoen found herself looking to Jaheira.

"You wanted to start making your own decisions," the Druid shrugged, "but, if you require advice, then I would say that he may be right; Cowled Wizards are known for zealously guarding their privacy, whereas the Shadow Thieves may be bought and may also have other information about our quarry. The question is how much of a price are we willing to pay for it."

"In truth, I fear the decision may be out of our hands for now," Yoshimo said quietly, stepping forward between the redhead and Jaheira, puffing on his pipe. "You see that man with the walking stick back there? If he is lost, then he has been very foolish in following us around in circles for the last hour, no?"

Imoen hadn't noticed the man before. She tried not to look too much now, but she did catch a glance of him, dressed in rags, carrying a crooked stick, pretending he was interested in some crude wooden carvings being offered by a teenager at a small stall. Perhaps it was best not to let him know they were on to him; didn't want him to panic and run away…

"I… suppose we don't have to rush to find out about Irenicus," Imoen decisively decided, "not like he's holding any of us hostage or anything. We should figure out what's been going on 'round here and maybe make some more friends, right?"

"Yes… we should know our enemy first," Jaheira nodded, "gather our own strength… although we must not dawdle too long. If he lives, who knows what his plans are?"

"Great!" Imoen grinned, overjoyed that her decision had gone down well. "So let's just…" she started to stroll further down the street; they just had to wait for whoever was following them to make a move. There was another stall, just selling odd junk like broken ornaments, buckets, pans. Imoen caught sight of herself in a small cracked mirror, and pressed her finger on the tip of her nose. "Am I getting a hooked nose?" She asked, trying to correct it. "I am, aren't I? I'm gonna look like one of those stereotypical old witches… sheez," she walked away, still holding her nose up, thinking maybe it might set that way somehow.

As the others walked on, Yoshimo shrugged and offered to share his pipe with Minsc; the big man shook his head disapprovingly and followed the Druid and Imoen. Aerie meanwhile was captivated by the junk on offer, poring over some kind of astrolabe before she gasped, realising that Imoen had gotten more than ten feet away, dropped it and scurried after the redhead.

Imoen grinned when the Elf had caught up, settling down to walk just beside and slightly behind her. Meeting someone else who had been tortured, caged and treated like a beast, but had made a conscious choice to carry on trying to be good and start a new life for herself… it had restored Imoen's hope and confidence too. Plus, it was going to be fun having her own personal sidekick to help her with… stuff. Still, it worried her slightly that Aerie hadn't said a single word since leaving The Promenade. The Elf was busy taking things in, but the proximity of the other three seemed to have something to do with her being so quiet as well. The Elf looked up and listened to all of them when they talked, but wasn't yet sure enough about any of them to join in herself. Actually Imoen wasn't sure about one of them yet either…

"So, Yoshi," she asked, "why are _you_ following us, still?"

"I assure you I've as much reason to see Irenicus brought to justice as any of you," he answered, "and besides… what else would I be doing?"

"Yeah… we are all rather lacking direction at the moment," the redhead blinked. Jaheira sighed.

"I told you… I am not lost…" the tawny haired half-elf insisted.

In any case, Yoshimo had helped them in the Circus tent. He was clearly a bit of a rogue, but whatever bad habits he had, he seemed for the most part trustworthy.

"What about you, Aerrers?" Imoen asked.

"M…me?" The blonde Elf blinked in surprise.

"Must be somewhere in the city you've always wanted to go."

"Well… I… have heard there is a temple of Oghma near the docks. T-they say it's one of the biggest libraries on The Sword Coast. Um, b-besides Candlekeep, of course. Although I'd like to visit there some day as well…"

"Heh… figures," Imoen smiled, remembering Aerie's little collection of books. She feared however that if she brought Aerie to a much bigger library it might be hard to get the Elf to come out again. "Hey… why don't we just swap childhoods? You can have Candlekeep and all the books, I'll take being able to soar high above and away from all the problems down here."

"I, um," Aerie smiled softly, although she turned her head away, gazing up at a passing cloud. "D-do you ever any idea how cold it gets up there?"

"Oh!" Imoen realised a bit too late that she'd said something foolish. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to…"

"It's fine, r-really. You've got more important things to worry about than me."

"Aw, hey Aerie, you are important, okay?" The redhead put an arm around her, squeezing her shoulder. "'fraid sometimes my mouth just gets a little ahead of my brain."

"I… I guess that happens to everyone, sometimes…"

"Not me," Jaheira scoffed a touch theatrically. "Every word that comes out of my mouth is thoroughly thought through and checked for errors."

"She's lying her butt off," Imoen assured her friend, "if only she weren't, then maybe I'd get fewer headaches…"

"Coo!"

Coo? What kind of a greeting was that? Imoen looked ahead of her and saw some man in what once might have been fine garments, but were now tattered and covered in grime, trying to catch their attention. But… Coo? Raised by pigeons, maybe…

"You ladies, and laddies there, seem a little lost," the man grinned. He was missing about half his teeth. He might have been about to lose a few more, judging by the way Jaheira looked at him. "This ain't no place for tourists t'be… get what I'm saying, aye?"

"I am not lost!" The Druid kept insisting. "Nor are we tourists."

"Ah… so ye meant to be walking over yer own bootprints all day, eh?"

"State your business, fool."

"Aye, you be Jaheira, right?" He nodded in greeting, then turned to the young redhead. "And you be Imoen, if I'm not mistaken."

"And you be missing a few fingers if you do not tell us who you are and what you want," Jaheira said, her handing twisting around the hilt of her scimitar.

"Now, no need for any of that. I'm just after a congenial little chat is all. 'Sides, I reckon ye'd be full of hole before ye got that thing out of it's sheath," the man looked pointedly in several directions. There several men and woman mingled with others in the street, and in some of the windows about, carefully pulling their cloaks back to reveal the crossbows hidden underneath.

"How do you know our names?" Imoen asked, suspecting there wasn't much point in denying it. Wasn't much point in asking that, to be honest… they'd probably been listened to all day.

"Coo! Real live heroes come to our little street, huh? Is it true ye once singlehandedly cleared a barn of rats and cured a sick cow?"

"Er… yeah, I guess… that was a very long time ago, though…"

"Maybe ye'd take a look at my cellar, huh?"

"Er… no. I don't exactly do that sort of thing anymore…"

"So I've heard. Ye hunt bigger vermin now. Although I guess lately the vermin's been hunting you."

"It looks that way, yeah…"

"Well why don't ye come inside and chat for a bit? " He nodded backwards to the building behind him. "Be great to hear a few stories from someone of such reknown as yerself."

"You still haven't said who you are."

"Ach… were are my manners, ey? I be Gaelan Bayle. Come on in," he nodded more insistently, already opening the door.

"I have heard of this man," Yoshimo informed the rest of his group. "He handles some of the pickpockets around here… or collects from them, rather. I am sure the rumours are not true… in any case, he is quite well connected."

"R-rumours? W-what do you mean?" Aerie asked, not understanding the innuendo. Imoen couldn't blame her; even with Candlekeep's vast collection of books, there were certain things that just didn't get written about very often. It had been quite a shock to her to learn about some of these things for the first time. No time to explain it now though, and it wasn't something they were here to investigate. Hopefully it was just a rumour or a joke.

"Talk about it later, Aerie," Imoen sighed. Hopefully the Elf would forget about it. "For now, it looks we don't have much choice. I want you to wait out here, with Minsc."

"Wait?" Aerie's eyes widened. "Out… o-out here?"

"I won't be gone long, I hope. And Minsc is just a big friendly giant, ain't ya Minsc?"

"Indeed… Minsc is your humbug servant," the big man bowed, "no disastrophe will befall you out here!"

"See? Nothing at all to worry about."

"All… alright," Aerie forced herself to smile. It was clear enough she would obey.

"Now, you both know what to do if you hear screaming from in there, right?"

"Hmmm," Minsc scratched his bald head for a moment. "Ah… run for our lives, yes?"

"Wha…?" Imoen was taken back by the very un-Minsc like response, but then she saw the way his lips moved. "Oh, I see… that was a joke! A genuine Minsc joke, there… aww… look how proud he is… but you really both know what to do, right?"

"Of course Minsc and Boo know what to do, as does little Aerie we're sure."

"Right," Imoen felt a bit foolish; no reason to doubt any of them, was there?

She went on in with Jaheira and Yoshimo. The inside was pretty unremarkable; just like every other poor him she'd been. Walls, floors and furniture made of hastily thrown together wood held in place by nails and dried mud. Bayle was pouring them each a drink of water and ale. Mostly water.

"Me sources be telling me you might be looking for information 'bout a certain wizard, yes?" He explained to them, casually pushing three battered tankards across the table. "Man calling himself Irenicus?"

"The Cowled Wizards took him away," Imoen shrugged. "He's probably dead by now, right?" She said, hopefully, even as she suspected it just wasn't true.

"Aye… if only they'd that much sense," Gaelan sighed. "But no… he's alive, my mateys. And long as he is, he can still be a threat. To us all. He's being held in a charming little place they have for what they call 'deviants'. Er, people who practice magic but who aren't Cowlies."

Imoen felt her heart sinking suddenly… she knew he probably was alive, but to have it confirmed. She'd still been holding out a little bit of hope that she wouldn't have to face him again, or stare into his cold, emotionless eyes. Not unless they were already dead, anyway.

"Where is he?" Jaheira snarled suddenly, slamming her fist on the table.

"Hey… calm down, Jae…" Imoen squeeked.

"I have no time for games. I want to know where the murderer of my husband is hiding, now!"

"I not be having all the details," Bayle said, backing away slowly. "'N even if I did, what are ye gonna do? Take on all the Cowled Wizards yourselves to get to him? Just ain't happening, friends. But I happen to acquainted with a powerful group who've as much interest in seeing justice brought to this fella as all of you. And they've enough power to go against the wizards."

"Well, if that's the case, why would they want our help?" Imoen asked. Jaheira seemed to have regained control of herself… she hoped there weren't going to be too many outbursts. It was unprofessional and un-Jaheira like. Even if it was understandable, it worried Imoen a little.

"More a question of what did he want with you, I reckon. Oh, we've all heard the rumours about who your father is, lady, but what did Irenicus think he could use you for?"

"I have no idea," Imoen shook her head, answering truthfully, "he had all sorts of machines and experiments going on, but I've not any idea what they were about…"

"Still, he wants ye for something. N' for that reason, my friends think it would be best not to let ye out their sights. But since they be knowing ye be no allies of his, maybe best you just work together, 'ey?"

"So, these 'friends' of yours," Imoen asked as if she hadn't already guessed. If they were who she thought they were, there was little chance of escaping their sights anyway. She hated being dragged along into things like this, but for now it looked like there was no choice. She was just never going to be able to live her own life. "Where they the ones fighting Irenicus in his dungeon?" Bayle looked up, measuring Imoen.

"Aye," he nodded, "it weren't their intention, but a lot of them lost their lives so that you could escape. They be willing to help you more, but they want a little something in return."

"Like what?"

"Well, first, it'll require a little capital to cross the Cowled Wizards…"

Money… of course. "How much?" Imoen sighed.

"Twenty thousand gold pieces."

"No, seriously… how much?"

"I just said."

"We don't have that kind of money!" The redhead protested; in fact, they didn't really have any money.

"Ack… I'm sure ye've raised that much before in your adventures."

"Oh yeah, sure… trouble is, I left all my money in Baldur's Gate. Didn't think to bring any of it with me before I was knocked out and dragged here. If only I'd planned ahead, huh?"

"We live and we learn. But don't fret missy. There be plenty of jobs going 'round 'ere for someone with your skills. In fact, you may be able to pay some of it off working for my friends themselves," Bayle said with a wide, crooked grin. "You head down the docks and ask for a fella called Bloodscalp. Renal Bloodscalp. Tell 'em I sent ye."

"Nice name. I take it he didn't get it because he's constantly scratching at lice?"

"Nah… he washes least once a month, I reckon."

"Wow," obviously someone extremely meticulous about how they looked. Imoen didn't exactly relish the thought of getting involved with someone who had earned a name like that, but… what else would she be doing? There were no other leads to go on, and Bayle's friends probably were the best people to learn the lay of the land from.

"Oh… one other bit of advice for ye," Gaelan said as Imoen was turning to leave, "you be careful who you talk to out there. Lot of… unpleasant types about," he said with a mostly toothless, apparently unironically. And, well… I'm sure you'll learn about all the recent goings on round 'ere soon enough. Good luck to ye," he toasted.

Right now though, Imoen wanted intelligence far more than luck.

* * *

Aerie was waiting patiently outside. At least she looked like she was. In truth, she was finding it very hard. She was trying to keep herself occupied wondering if it was possible to cause a total protonic reversal by crossing two neutrona beams, but her mind kept wandering back to why Imoen was taking so long. Every little noise made her jump up, and she was really struggling not to open the door and go in. But, Imoen had told her to wait, and she didn't want anyone to think she couldn't follow instructions. In fact, it was one thing she'd learnt to do really well.

A few feet away, on the opposite side of the door Imoen had gone into, that huge man, Minsc, was gently petting his hamster. She had never seen quite such a big human, and had to admit she felt a little threatened by him; in her life, musclebound men carrying weapons had tended not to treat her very well. She knew she was silly; if he was a friend of Imoen's then he must be good. She'd heard he was from Rasheman, a land she'd read about before, ruled by powerful witches. She had a lot of questions she wanted to ask him, but… what if she made a mistake? What if she accidentally said the wrong thing and he became angry and attacked her? Or worse, what if he decided he just didn't like her because she bothered him with stupid questions that anyone who'd grown up in the world ought to know the answer to and she ended up having to go back to the circus? So in the end she said nothing at all.

He looked up. Aerie silently yelped and quickly turned her eyes away. Oh dear… he must have seen her looking…

"I will ask her, Boo!" He said. She tentatively turned her head back toward him, just as he took a single large step, his shadow completely covering her. "Er, Boo would like to know," he said, rubbing the back of his head nervously, "do you like Sunflowers?"

"I…" Aerie gulped. Strange thing to be asked, and what if she gave the wrong answer? Was there a wrong answer? If there was, would it trigger some sort of berserker rage… "Um… I-I've never seen one," she said, resorting to just telling the truth.

"Truly? Ha! Minsc has seen many!" He beamed. "He has ridden through whole forests of them, some of them even taller than Minsc, if such a thing can be believed."

"R… really?" She gasped, her wide eyed fear slowly turning into wonder as she imagined what it must be like to run through such a forest. "Um… w-why does Boo want to know if I like Sunflowers?"

"Ah… he is thinking about food. He likes the seeds, you see. It has been a long time since any of us have had a good meal. But you seem to be afraid that Minsc might eat you…"

"No!" Aerie gasped, shaking her head. "I mean… t-that would be silly, right?" She'd prayed to Baervar that it was, anyway.

"Indeed it is, right Boo?" The big man grinned. "You are not fat enough to eat yet."

"Heh," Aerie snortled, feeling herself relax. "I-I'm sorry… I-I'm just not very good at… at talking, I'm afraid."

"You seemed to converse with Little Imoen well enough."

"I… I guess it was just the circumstances. I-I had to help her to get better, a-and then she helped me and, well…"

"Boo understands. He gets nervous meeting new people as well. He crawls into Minsc's pants and curls into a little ball… it can be rather embarrassing."

"I… see," the blonde Elf covered her mouth as she giggled.

"Hmm?" Minsc held the hamster up to his ear, where it's whiskers did appear to twitch a few times. "Ah… Boo says you have a pretty smile. You should not hide it."

"Um… thank you, Boo?" Aerie expected that many things would seem a little strange to her out here… but she hadn't she'd be talking to a hamster.

"Of course, Minsc has seen many wonders other than Sunflowers."

"You have?" Aerie's eyes sparkled. "L-like what?"

"Since leaving his homeland, Minsc has crossed mountains and forests and rivers, towns and cities such as this, and fought all kinds of beast. And wherever Minsc has gone, he has trodden on the buttocks of evil doers and made a name for himself as great hero! Minsc and Boo and…" suddenly Minsc's beaming eyes became very sullen. Aerie tilted her head, her own heart sinking of such a wonderfully stupendous man suddenly being like this…

"I'm… I'm sorry about your witch. Dynaheir, yes?" She said. "Imoen told me a little about her. She… s-she sounded like an amazing woman. Strong and confident and wise…"

"Aye, she was these things. Disapproving of Boo sometimes, but usually they got along. Now, her dajemma is over. And so is Minsc's…" he said, sinking even further. A dajemma was a journey Rashemi witches and the warriors sworn to protect them went on to prove themselves in the world, or so Aerie had read. She guessed for a warrior to return home without his witch would be… well, she'd never lost anyone who was that close to her, not that she knew, but she supposed it would be a bit like an Avariel losing her wings and suddenly being unable to talk to her family or anyone she'd cared about, not sure if they could even accept her now...

"N-no," Aerie shook her head. "You… you can still honour her memory. And, y-you still have Imoen to protect, yes? T-there's still lots you can do, Minsc."

"Ahh… Dynaheir would have liked you, Minsc thinks. You have a kind heart," he told her. It was rather simple and childlike thing to say, but endearing nevertheless. "And you are right… Minsc still has lot's to do. There is one butt in particular that needs to be kicked so hard it end up back in Rasheman…"

"Hey… are you two getting along?" Imoen asked, stepping outside. Aerie wasn't as relieved to see her as she would have been a few minutes ago. Not that she wasn't, just that she and Minsc were getting along.

"Yes," the Elf nodded. "What happened?"

"Something horrible, Aerie," Imoen shook her head, looking down at the dirt road. "Something that involves a word I really hate saying… it's a vulgar, disgusting word that should only be said in whispers, and even then only when it's positively, absolutely necessary for fear it might give someone a heart attack."

"What?" Aerie arched an eyebrow; she was catching on that when Imoen embellished things like this, it was probably going to be something very silly.

"We got a…" Imoen looked her in the eye, gulping and steadying herself, "…job."


	11. Ch 10: Pretty, Petty Thieves

**Out Of The Shadows**

**Chapter Ten:**

**Pretty, Petty Thieves**

"So… w-we'll be helping these thieves, now?" Aerie asked worriedly after Imoen had explained where they were going.

"Thieves aren't all bad," Imoen held her hands up. Truthfully, she wasn't overjoyed either, but she realised she was going to have to justify her choice to her companions, especially Minsc and Aerie. "I mean, look around you, kid," they did so. They looked around at the dirty, smelly street and the shacks and houses that only remained standing because of the weight of their neighbours pressed against them. "A city like this wasn't built in a day; it just looks like it was. I was lucky, I suppose. I grew up in a place where I got taught to read and write and be good with numbers. But people who live in a place like this, well, most of them have got two choices if they want to get out… be either a priest or a thief. Or you could be a priest of Mask, I suppose, which is sort of both… anyway, what I'm saying is not all thieves are cutthroats and killers."

"But… Shadow Thieves?" Aerie could actually be seen thinking over everything she was hearing, even as she asked further questions. "I've… I-I've heard so many terrible things about them…"

"Well, some of them are cutthroats and killers, yeah," Imoen nodded, "we'll just have to be careful with 'em. The important thing is, they might know some stuff about Irenicus, like where he came from and what he's been up to and whatever else has been going on here lately, whereas currently we know zilch about him which kinda puts all of them at an advantage. Besides… I really didn't wanna take a dirt nap today," she remembered the men around them with crossbows, and knew they were probably still being watched.

"Think of it this way, child," Jaheira sighed, "The Shadow Thieves may be bad, but without them the situation in the slums here could be far worse, with smaller gangs constantly fighting for control of each street. They are not ideal, but at least they maintain some kind of order around here."

"Wh-what about the guards?" Aerie asked.

"The Guards are in the employ of the merchants and noble houses, many of whom are involved in far worse crimes than anything the Shadow Thieves have ever sunk to. To anyone else, they are of virtually no use at all."

"That's true," Aerie sighed and nodded slowly. Imoen supposed the actual 'Law' in Amn had never really done much to impress her friend. Slavery was supposed to have been made illegal here, but there was probably just too much money in it for the Lords and Ladies involved to give it up just because of a little thing like that.

"Hoy!" They were greeted at the end of the street by a scruffy boy, about nine or ten years old, with brown hair. Or it could have been blond; it was hard to be sure with all the mud on him. "You be the ones, aye? Uncle Gaelan's sent me to make sure ye don't get lost again."

"I was not lost!" Jaheira fumed. "It was just one wrong turn. I know exactly where I am now."

"Eh, well, he said I've to show ye to the docks. Make sure to stay close, 'cause I don't have time to wait for 'ya."

"Yeah," Imoen rolled her eyes, "I'm sure a kid like you has got a lot of important appointments to keep."

"Aye, well this town's whole economy would fall apart if it weren't for the work us urchins do. So, if'n ye don't mind… oh," the boy suddenly looked past Imoen, his brown eyes widening and his cheeks flushing slightly. "Um… hey, Miss Aerie," he said, furtively looking away and kicking at the dirt by his feet. "It's, er… it's nice to see 'ya out and about, miss. I-I always said the circus was no good for ya…"

"Oh," the Elf squinted for a moment. "H-hello… Brus?"

"You know him?" Imoen arched an eyebrow.

"L-lots of children come to the circus," Aerie said quietly, "I… I used to help some of them get in for free, sometimes…"

"You did?" Imoen gasped, "you wild little rule breaker, you," she grinned as Aerie's cheeks blossomed bashfully.

"Right, so," Brus curled up his lips, "do you people want to see about this job or not?"

"Actually, Brus, can I have a word with you first… over here?" Imoen guided the boy by the shoulder a short distance away from the others.

"What's this about?" He asked suspiciously.

"I just figured you being a professional urchin and all, you might be able to answer a couple of questions, is all."

"Yeah, well, we urchins got families to feed too, y'know."

"Right," Imoen thought, "don't really want to go into that, actually… thing is, I haven't exactly got much cash on me now, but," Imoen smiled and knelt down to whisper, "maybe you could answer a couple of questions and maybe I could get Aerie to hold your hand or something… maybe even a peck on the cheek…" it was hard not to laugh at how red he went.

"W-why would I want that?" He protested far too much. "I… I'm not queer y'know!"

"I think you've got a pretty warped sense of what that means. But it's nothing to be ashamed of, Brus. Aerie's very nice, and very pretty. Bit of a cruel combination for mother nature to come up with if I'm honest… still it's not her fault, I suppose. "

"She… she is a lot prettier than any of those elves who come from Evereska or Suldanessellar," Brus mumbled, "or, y'know, that's what my…what my cousin says, anyway… I don't really notice."

"You know," Imoen sighed, "I remember my first crush. I was about ten, I think, and there was this young monk who had this really funny laugh, kind of like bleating, but he had the most beautiful emerald eyes and hair like strands of woven sunshine…"

"Look, I'll answer any questions you want, s'long as you stop making me feel sick."

"Deal."

"So what do you wanna know?"

"I've heard there's been some fighting going on in the streets."

"Yeah, some rival guild's tried to set up in town, causing the Shadow Thieves a few problems. Quite a few been killed… I expect Renal will sort it out before long though."

"How long has that been going on?"

"Few months," Brus shrugged.

"So Renal's taking his time, then?"

"He's got a plan. He just… he ain't told no one what it is, yet."

"You know anything about this other guild?"

"I know they only come out at night. Uncle Gaelan always makes sure us urchins are all home soon as the sun sets, but otherwise… anything else?"

"Not at the moment… I might need your help again sometime, though…"

If Irenicus was involved with this other guild, Imoen thought, then they might be in more immediate danger than she first thought. It only helped further convince her that siding with The Shadow Thieves was the best course of action, for now.

* * *

_Bloodscalp's Junk Traders Limited - Don't be fleeced by anyone else…_

That was the sign in front of the orange brick building they arrived at, right on the edge of the city and the ocean. The docks were nice compared to the slums they had left, with cobbled, well drained streets. In any case, regardless of the sensibility of that slogan, the group of adventurers went inside and announced to one of the scrawny workmen that they wished to see Renal. He left to fetch him, leaving them surrounded by crates of 'junk', with lots of other paraphernalia that hadn't been sorted yet, and another workman. Dark skinned and not as tall as Minsc, but barrel chested and with the thickest arms Imoen had ever seen. He stood still as statue, his eyes scrutinising the party's every move.

"Erm… you're a bit, heavy, for a rag and bone man, ain't ya?" Imoen tried making conversation with him as she examined a wind chime.

"You what?" He glared furiously at her. "You calling me fat?"

"Er, no… o-of course not, I just mean," Imoen wisely changed the subject, "Erm… nice junk you got here."

"Yeah," he sneered, "amazing what stuff people throw away."

"Sure is. I mean, some of it looks brand new… er, Tim?" She peered. The workers here all seemed to have name badges pinned on them. She knew the next thing she uttered was a mistake even before she said, but it was impossible to resist. "So, do they call you Tiny Tim?"

"Tiny?" He growled, clenching his hammer like fists as he advanced on Imoen. She was sure she heard bones crack and backed away… unfortunately she backed into a crate and was now trapped. "Just what in the hells is that supposed to mean?"

"I-I mean, because you're so… so big, obviously," the redhead tried to explain through her desperate grin. "It's a joke…"

"You a comedian, are you?"

"Erm… nope," she squeeked.

"Didn't think so," he scoffed and then, seemingly satisfied, he went back to stand in his position. Imoen breathed out again.

"Hey, thanks for all rushing to my aid there, fellas'," she scowled at her companions, who all wore amused expressions. "Maybe I'll do the same for you all, someday.,."

"Oi, now, what's going on 'ere?" A man had appeared at the top of a stairway, leading from the main floor up to an office, apparently. He had expensive leather boots, a long dark red coat and a chiselled face like an old stature and dark well washed hair. He was flanked by what seemed to be two more identical copies of Tim… Triplets? That had to have been a really big woman… anyway, the man who seemed to be in charge started addressing the other workers sorting through junk as he descended the stairs. "Which of you scrotums put that new sign up outside?"

The other men stopped their work, sharing nervous glances before one of them tentatively put his hand up.

"Um, that… that was me," the skinny fellow admitted, "see, I thought the old one was a bit weathered, so I…"

"No, no… I like it," the man in the red coat said as he crossed the floor.

"You do?" The skinny one blinked in surprise.

"Nice font, I thought."

"Oh… thank you!"

"Very artistic."

"Thank you!"

"Eye catching."

"Y-yes, sir…"

"And to the point…"

"I'll take it down, sir," the skinny man bowed and hurried away.

"Excellent," the red coated man beamed a smile at the adventurers. "So now, who be you chaps and chapettes?"

"Are you Renal Bloodscalp?" Imoen peered. "Leader of the Shadow Thieves?"

"Shadow Thieves?" He tried to sound astonished. "Don't know what you mean, young miss. This 'ere is just a perfectly legitimate family run business. We recycle junk… incidentally," the man, who was almost certainly Renal Bloodscalp grabbed a worker by the shoulder, pulling a chain and locket out from inside his coat. "Keep telling you; don't mix this plain stuff in with the magic items. If our buyers found out, we'd get ourselves a poor reputation… and we can't have that now, can we?"

"No… n-no sir," the man shook his head vigorously and ran away.

"Family business, eh?" Imoen peered at Tim and his clones. "So, why all the bodyguards?"

"What, the brothers Tim?" Renal glanced at them. "Not bodyguards, they're… my nephews."

"Right," Imoen rolled her eyes. "Anyway, a man named Bayle sent us here."

"Bayle, eh?" Renal rubbed his square chin. "Well, I've never heard that name before. Maybe you should come upstairs and tell me a bit about him…"

They all followed him up, to a perfectly ordinary office with a desk, chairs, cabinets… nothing at all to suggest anything untoward happening here. Well, if you didn't count the board with all the throwing knives sticking out.

"So, you are the ones who crawled out of that sewer of Irenicus's?" Renal said, sitting down and putting his feet up on the desk. "Imoen, Jaheira, Minsc, and… don't know you lass," he looked pointedly at the Elf.

"Um… A-Aerie," she squeeked, avoiding his eyes and hiding a bit behind Minsc.

"Aerie? You've a certain charm, I suppose. And Yoshi… how good it is to see you again!"

"Yoshimo, if you please sire," the Kara-Turan bowed, "where I come from, pet names like that are… well, let us say that you and I have not yet become so familiar…"

"You know him?" Imoen arched an eyebrow.

"Not like that…"

"Freelancers like your friend here are not really appreciated in this city," Renal explained, "but, I trust you have come to pay your debt, hm?"

"I believe you have a task," Yoshimo bowed again.

"I do?" Renal thought a moment. "Oh! I do! Yes… I'm having a spot of bother with a fellow who runs one of our guildhouses, a man named Mae'Var. He and I go way back, and have cultivated a very special understanding; I scratch his back, he tries to stick a knife in mine. Trouble is, so as not to upset the other guildmasters, I'm going to need a bit of evidence before I can return his favour in kind."

"But… y-you're thieves?" Aerie spoke up, boldly. "W-why can't you get the evidence yourselves?" She asked, and then quickly sank away again when eyes started turning towards her.

"Well, don't you know already?" Renal asked.

"If she knew, she would not ask," Jaheira frowned, "stop being obtuse and answer her damn question."

"Well, aren't you feisty? Very well… you may have heard already, but there's been a bit of a scrap taking place for control of this city and I'm afraid all my best people are caught up in it. Besides, it'll be best I send people Mae'Var doesn't know already."

"Send?"

"Oh yes, the task is quite simple; go over there, join his guild, find some evidence that he's getting too big for his boots, then report back to me. Any questions?"

"Are you really the leader of the Shadow Thieves?" Imoen asked.

"What do you think?"

No, was what she thought. He was too showy; real leaders tended to keep quiet, let other people to do the working and the talking until they had to. Renal was more of a middle man, or their public face, as it were.

"What do we get for helping you?" She smirked.

"Apart from the love and respect of myself and the organisation I represent?" Renal considered for a moment. "Well, I heard you were involved with the Thieves Guild up in Baldur's Gate? How'd you like to run your own guild, provided you do your job well and the situation becomes vacant."

It was a surprising offer; the situation must be far worse than she thought if he was offering a job like that to her. Imoen thought that might be a little too much responsibility for her right now. Although, they needed a secure base to work from, didn't they? And it would be a way in with the Shadow Thieves, making it easier to find out about Irenicus… it might not be so bad, provided she got to run things her own way, of course… In the end, she accepted the offer.

"I do not like it," Jaheira said when they were outside, "we should be pursuing Irenicus, not getting involved in some Guild war."

"Irenicus is involved with this other Guild, somehow," Imoen explained, "why else would the Shadow Thieves have sent so many of their own men after him? The enemy of my enemy is our friend, right?"

"Until they do not need us anymore, and then they stab us in the back."

"Anyway, you said yourself, the Shadow Thieves stop there from being anarchy around here."

"You did say that," Yoshimo nodded.

"Fine," Jaheira huffed, "let us just get this done quickly so we can get on with what we should be doing."

Jaheira had been becoming increasingly tense all day, Imoen noticed. She could almost feel the druid's muscles tightening around herself even from several feet away… but there was little could be done now.

Mae'Var's guildhall was, on the outside, a nondescript three storey building fronted on the ground floor by a shop. A bookshop in fact; Aerie was delighted. So much so that after Imoen had explained who they were and shown and the old man behind the counter the papers Renal had provided, the redhead then had to drag the Elf away from the shelves so they could head further in. Although there was little difference in size between them, the Avariel, Imoen had discovered in their sparring, was much lighter, and let out a small yelp as she was pulled away by the heavier woman, just managing to stuff the book she was looking at back on the shelf.

The old man knocked seven times on a door at the back of the shop, which unlocked seconds later. Bit disappointing that there wasn't one of those secret switches hidden in the spine of a book, but Imoen supposed that it being a bookshop that might be a bit awkward if anyone wanted to browse.

Heads turned to look at all of them in the next room, especially at Minsc. It seemed to be a sort of living area with couches and tables, a small bar and ashtrays and a door leading down into a cellar. About a dozen men and women were sprawled around it, all in dark clothes and leather, a few carrying knives and most of them bore scars. They started to regard the newcomers rather menacingly… Imoen ignored them and went to the cellar door to inquire about Mae'Var. The quite big fellow guarding it told her the man was busy and that she had to wait a few minutes. She did so, smiling and nodding at the rogues around her even as she knew they were all trying to weigh how much she was worth. In fact one man, who had probably had a bit too much to drink, came out with it quite directly…

"How much fer a night with you, then, dahling?" He slurred. Imoen resisted the urge to immediately run outside and find a bucket.

"Twenty thousand gold pieces," she said, standing her ground.

"Bit steep," he said, although he had thought long and hard about it. "What can I get fer ten?"

"Minsc?" The mighty ranger stood beside her, and the man propositioning them decided just to hang on to his money.

A few minutes turned into half an hour. The adventurers began to spread out across the room, admiring paintings, helping themselves to drinks. It was when Imoen left Aerie sat on her own to fetch herself a mug of water that things started to kick off…

"Well ain't you a sweet looking thing?" Imoen was at the bar pouring herself the drink when she heard a man's voice coming from where she had left Aerie. She spun around; three of them had surrounded the Elf; she looked desperately to Imoen for help, even as she sunk back into her seat. The redhead was about to run back, when two more thieves took hold of each of her arms holding her securely in place… dumb, stupid… buffleheaded! She should have made sure she stayed close to her friend… she struggled to free herself, but it was useless…

"What's your name?" The man asked.

"A… A-Aerie," the Elf stuttered.

"A-A-Aerie?" He mocked. He leaned over her, flashing a wicked grin. "Just so you know, name's Zyntris, and I'm the senior cutpurse here. And what I want, I get. You hear me?"

"I-I hear," the Elf gulped. "P-please excuse me, I-I have to go and…"

"No, you ain't going nowhere," he snapped, grabbing her by the wrist and flinging her from her seat, not letting go. Aerie tried to pull away, but wasn't strong to break free of his grip on her arm. "What did you say yer name was? Air head?"

"Nice one, Zyn!" His cronies laughed.

"Please," Aerie started to weep, still struggling. "I-I…"

"Aye-aye?" Zyntris chuckled. "In the navy, are ye?"

"Nice one, Zyn!" That seemed to be all his friends were capable of saying.

Imoen tried again to get free, but fared no better than last time. She looked around for help… Minsc had gone out to take of some business… Yoshimo must have gone with him, and probably another crony was holding them up, too. That left…

"Oi… what do you want?" Zyntris was surprised by a tap on his shoulder. He looked over it to see Jaheira staring coolly at him. "You wait your turn, mongrel. I wanna play with Air-head here, first."

"Hm," the side of druids mouth quirked up. "It is very easy to make fun of some people, is it not?"

"Yeah… so?"

"I think I will have a lot fun with you," he looked back on the druid. He probably didn't fully realise what a mistake he'd made until his nose burst all across his face and he went flying back.

His two friends were stunned for a moment, and then realising they still had superior numbers they rushed at Jaheira, as did the two holding Imoen. The redhead managed to trip one of them. The druid easily avoided and stepped around the other three as they came, one of them running head first into the wall. One of them tried to take a swing at her, which she blocked and countered with an uppercut sending him tumbling backwards. The last one tried to sneak up behind, only for a sudden look of surprise to appear on his face as he sunk to his knees… Aerie was breathing heavily, a few sparks of elcectricity still left in her hand.

Finally, Zyntris managed to find his feet and attempted to rush Jaheira from behind. She caught him by the arm and used his own momentum to fling him up and over onto his back, and was then quickly sat on top of him raining down blow after blow, even after he had clearly lost consciousness. The other thieves in the room just shrugged and returned to their drinks.

"Er… Jae?" Imoen approached slowly. The druid had this feral look about her, like she was completely lost to her rage. "Um… I-I think he's out…" somehow, the words seemed to get through, and she stopped, looking back on Imoen as her typically composed features returned. "You… feeling better now?"

"A little," she nodded, "although, not quite as much fun as I thought it would be."

"What's going on up here?" A man appeared by the cellar door, at about the same time Minsc and Yoshimo returned, looking around with puzzled expressions.

"Poor, dear Zyntris has made a fool of himself again, I fear," a dark haired woman with a deep tan purred.

"Right," the man sighed, and turned to Imoen and Jaheira, "well, Mae'Var is ready to see you, now," the adventurers headed for the door, but were blocked again. "'Ere, doesn't take five of you to chat, now, does it? One will do."

Imoen looked around at her companions; the only real choices were herself, Yoshimo or Jaheira. She wasn't sure she could trust Jaheira to keep a cool head, or Yoshimo at all, which meant it was going to be her, then. She nodded, her companions appearing to instinctively understand what her decision was, and then she disappeared down below…

It was dark. Obviously not that unusual for a cellar to be dark. It was a bit unusual for there to be cages, though. Human cages, judging by the pots laid out in them although they were currently. She tried to swallow back the flashes of memory she had of the cage she'd been in, of Irenicus and his experiments and his knives… she needed to slow her heart down before it burst through her chest…

She managed to, after a minute. Trying to think happy thoughts, of being anywhere other than here, and then she started to take little steps between the cages to the torchlight at the other end of the cellar. She had to think; the little fight upstairs may have had them all on guard, now. That might be why only she was allowed down here... she needed them to relax and take their eyes off her a bit...

"Heya!" She grinned and waved. A man glared up at her with his one eye, the other one covered in scar tissue. She tried not to look at the torture table next to him which appeared to have recently been used; he was washing the blood of his hands even as he turned to her. "I'm Imoen. Nice… nice place you got here."

"No it isn't," he scowled, "I don't like sarcasm. What's your reason for bothering me?"

"No, I meant it. A few more rugs, some wallpaper to cover a few of the cracks on the walls, maybe a lick of peach paint…"

"How about I throw you on the rack here and paint the walls with your blood?"

"Hm… red and peach? Nah, don't think it'll work…"

"Who are you?" He demanded more forcefully.

"Er… right," Imoen said with a sheepish shrug, handing over the papers Renal had given her.

"I see," he pored over them for a minute, "so… Renal has sent you? Isn't that interesting."

"Is it? I learnt recently that Bees have their own language; I thought that interesting. But this is just… a job," Imoen tried not to balk at the word.

"I think I see why he wanted rid of you," Mae'Var shook his head, "your lips move and you don't really care what comes out, do you?"

"Sorry, am I rambling again? I do that when I'm nervous. My foster father used to say I could talk the hind legs off a donkey, and then it would still try to walk away…"

"Please shut up," he said, exasperated. "I suppose I shall have to think of some pissant task for you to prove your worth… and keep you out of my hair. In the meantime, you may as well go up and get settled in; I will summon you when I have something. You will also have to sign a contract… seek Anishai for that."

"Sure, I'll do that. Y'know, cross the tees and dot the old…" he glared at her. "Eye… well, see you later, then," she hurriedly backed away, grinning like a goon.

"Unbelievable," Mae'Var sighed and shook his head as soon as he was sure she had left. "They're sending me monkeys, now?" He pulled a knife from his belt.

"Were I you," the space near to Mae'Var distorted and shimmered. A man in a long, flowing red robe with gold patterns and trim stepped through, stroking his dark beard. "I would keep a close eye on that simian," the wizard said, stepping past Mae'Var and gazing thoughtfully up the stairs after Imoen, a small, knowing smile on his face... "She may not be quite so stupid as she seems."

"My dear Edwin," Mae'Var grinned, "rest assured; no one is as stupid as she seems."

He threw the knife, his grin growing wider as it thudded into the middle of the target twelve feet away. The wizard arched an eyebrow and bowed gracefully as he disappeared.


	12. Ch 11: Pretty, Petty Thieves, Part 2

**Out Of The Shadows**

**Chapter Eleven:**

**Pretty, Petty Thieves, Part 2**

"Now, that Zyntris was just trying to frighten you, dearie," Imoen returned upstairs to find that woman, the one who had spoken up against the ruffians, patting Aerie's hand as words rolled out of her mouth like spider silk… she hadn't gotten into even more trouble, had she? "With Mae'Var spending all his time in the basement, Zyntris has gotten it into his walnut sized brain that he should be in charge."

"He was s-succeeding," the Elf stuttered, shifting on her feet like she really needed to go somewhere and was too polite to say so. "A-at least until…"

"Until your friend decided to make his nose wider," the thief said with a cat like grin, "of course, fights happen here often but it's been a while since I've seen someone so skilled in the art of grievous bodily harm… let alone another female…" she purred, putting her little finger on the corner of her ruby lips as she eyed the druid.

"Er, r-right," Aerie turned to face Jaheira also. "Thank you," she said, bowing her head.

The druid turned away and snorted. "You really must learn to look after yourself, child," Jaheira really had never been good at accepting people's gratitude. Since you couldn't punch them for it, she didn't know what to do with it.

"Oh…" Aerie's eyes lit up suddenly. Her ears stood up as well. "Imoen!" She padded quickly across the floorboards.

"You pleased to see me?" The redhead smiled warmly.

"O-of course I am! Why?"

"Just not a reaction I'm used to… it's usually 'oh Gods, it's her again', and stuff like that… plus, I was only gone a couple of minutes."

"Sorry," Aerie flushed with embarrassment. "I-I was just being silly… I didn't get along with everyone in the circus, b-but at least I knew all of them. The city is much bigger than I thought; so many people. I-I don't know how you do it…"

"Do what?" Imoen looked past Aerie for a second. That thief lady was talking away to Jaheira. Imoen couldn't hear them, but it was clear that whatever the thief was saying it was making the druid rather uncomfortable.

"Talk to all of them."

"Well, Shadow Thieves probably aren't the very best folks to be introduced to on your first day, but trust me; you haven't gotta be afraid of most people," the redhead explained, putting an arm around the Elf. "Most people are okay."

"W-what about Mae'Var?" Aerie whispered.

"He's not okay," Imoen shook her head, trying not to remember the cages and the torture and the knives and the blood still on his hands... "He's someone you should be afraid of."

"I'm still not clear about what kind of 'evidence' w-we're supposed to be looking for."

"Renal just wants a reason to remove Mae'Var from his position, and right now I can't see any reason not to go along with that. Just keep your eyes and ears open for anything that might harm other Shadow Thieves in any way. In the meantime we'd better prove that we're good honourable thieves."

"I-its like a story I read once," Aerie sighed, "a bounty hunter had to go undercover with this gang to get to their leader."

"What happened?"

"Oh, he got them all in the end. A-although, that was some time after they'd realised who he was and beaten him and left him for dead in a burning down barn…"

"Okay, good. Thanks for sharing. I think we'll probably try to avoid the whole being left for dead thing."

"I-I wonder if they have it in the shop…"

As she wondered about that, a new face, grinning broadly, thrust itself between the two of the embracing them both around the shoulders. "So," the Thief purred, "Mae'Var has decided to let you stay. How delightful. Truly there aren't enough sisters in The Shadow Thieves."

"Truly?" Imoen blinked in surprise. She couldn't have heard them, could she?

"I suppose he'll be wanting you to sign that contract thing, yes?"

"Yeah," Imoen remembered Mae'Var mentioning something about that. "But I've never heard of thieves having contracts before…"

"I know, but ever since Mae'Var hired that wizard they've got everyone signing these ridiculous things. It just says Mae'Var is not liable for any activities you might be caught in, and should the unthinkable everything you own passes on to him, including your body. He likes to… experiment, see."

Imoen's spine tingled at the word 'experiment'… Irenicus… Khalid… she had to shake herself. Needed to stay composed and focused. "So, you say Mae'Var spends all his time down there?"

"Lately, yes. I'm sure he's planning something, but he's keeping most of us out of the loop. Last person who tried to pry… well, we shan't be seeing his face round here again. But enough about that dreary stuff; follow me and I'll get you set up, give you the grand tour of our facility then give you your induction."

"Induction?" Imoen didn't much like the sound of that; she imagined being made to walk on coals while dressed as a puffin…

"Nothing to worry about; just a few rules, or guidelines, have to be explained. You are from out of town, yes?"

"Yeah… are you Anishai?"

"Indeed. Assassin extraordinaire and Shadow Thief of good standing. Now come along, all of you," if she glided out of the room, beckoning them to follow.

"She… s-seems friendly," Aerie blinked.

"Yeah," Imoen tilted her head, "very friendly…"

"Hmmm… so, that's the name you go by, is it?" Anishai peered over the parchment Imoen had just handed her. "Miss Creant?"

"Er… i-it's, ah," Imoen rubbed the back of her head, a little ashamed, "a-actually, it's Imoen."

"Im-o-en," Anishai repeated, rolling the name around on her tongue. "How delectable… well, this hardly matters," she dropped the papers on the desk. "Now, the grand tour!" She swept them all out of the room. "On the ground floor is the shop, which you must have come through, yes?"

"Are… a-are the books all… stolen?" Aerie tried to ask as delicately as she could.

"Oh, no; that's all perfectly legal and above board. We have a deal with the temple of Oghma to supply tomes they no longer want or need. They don't inquire about the running of this place too much. Guess they're just happy the books don't get burned; that used to happen, you know."

"P-people used to burn books?" Aerie gasped in abject horror.

"Been one or two rulers in history that have been a bit finicky about the written word."

"That's horrible," the Elf shook her head, like that was the very worst crime that could happen in any totalitarian state.

"So, obviously apart from there are a couple of storerooms and recreational areas down here. Now, up here," Anishai led them up the stairs, "are the training rooms."

There was a long room that ran about half the length of the building, with doors with various types of lock propped all along one wall. There were also wooden training dummies with sacks of sawdust at each end of the crossbar that represented arms and dressed up in coats. As the party watched, a young rogue was trying to lift a purse from within one deep pocket; unfortunately, he got too close and touched the dummies body. There was a crackling, his back then his hair shot straight up, and then to rub it in even more the dummy pivoted about bringing him down with a clothesline.

"Important to stay on your toes," Anishai explained. "Of course, thieves should really avoid unnecessary fighting, but for those of you of a more belligerent disposition, we also have a new sparring room," at first glance, the room she led them to now looked quite ordinary, although with weapon racks at one end. Closer examination of the walls and doorframes revealed various runes that glowed slightly to the touch. "You can really go at it in here; swords, spells… nothing can hurt you. I don't understand how such things work, but its magic."

"A-amazing," Aerie was knelt down, poring over the runes. She seemed to have suddenly become far more alive and alert somehow, perhaps now that she had found something that piqued her interest. "It's quantum, I think. This room is isolated from the rest of reality, e-everything in it existing in multiple states at once… you can't die in here because, i-in a sense, everything in here is already both alive and dead," she explained, growing more and more excited, "until we leave, and then we go back to states we were in when we entered… i-it's an amazing piece of magic engineering…"

"Sounds like boring Gnome stuff to me," Imoen gestured uncaringly, although she smiled slightly as Aerie reddened, realising that people were looking at her. "We had a place a bit like it in Candlekeep, though."

Imoen recalled it fondly. She'd never been in there before. Guards trained in there, but she'd never had much interest in battle while growing up. But the day before she left, Gorion insisted she get some practice before hitting the road. She was with a few others, while the wizard kept summoning illusionary beast of increasing toughness… it scared the life out of her at first, but that only encouraged her instinct to fight. As she got into the swing of things and realised she couldn't really be hurt (although strictly speaking, according to the rules, she did die about five or six times), she kept asking the wizard for more, until eventually he collapsed from exhaustion, which she counted as a triumphant victory for pig-headedness.

The memory faded as a hand slapped down on her shoulder. She turned her head to see Anishai's sparkling white teeth glaring at her. "Fancy a quick match?" The thief purred.

Now, illusionary beasts were one thing, but an assassin…. Even if she couldn't die, Imoen wasn't confident she could win, and she couldn't bear the thought of losing in front of Aerie who looked up to her now. She wasn't comfortable with what she imagined the forfeit might be if she lost either…

"Maybe later," she said, thinking fast of a way to change the subject so that she didn't seem like a wimp in front of Aerie. "You know, this would be a good place to store fruit and vegetables as well… keep 'em fresh."

Anishai pondered this for a second. "I hadn't thought of that," she said, "maybe we could open a restaurant. I'm sure those sailor boys would pay good coin for completely fresh food instead of those stale biscuits they have at sea… perhaps you should suggest it to Mae'Var?"

"I might go and do that right now, actually… er, are we done here?"

"Well, upstairs are the sleeping quarters… I'm sure we'll find have plenty of time to get you settled into a bed. You should also study this," she pulled a pocket sized book out of the pouch on her belt. "Just a few rules and regulations you should follow."

Imoen took the book, opening it to a random page. "'Muggings,'" she read out loud, arching an eyebrow. "'Make sure the items you take value no more than fifty gold, and that the victim signs two copies of the receipt; one for themselves, and one for you…' er, receipt?"

"It's for your own protection, darling, in case you get caught. You see, the law states that the penalty for stealing fifty gold or less is two years in jail. So much as a copper more… you get fitted for a nice new rope necklace."

"Heavy…"

"Gravity does its work, yes."

"Well, I'll be sure to look at this," Imoen said, hastily stuffing the book into her belt and backing towards the door. "I'll probably just look around for a while, if that's okay?"

"Okay… do be sure to pop back if you have any more questions, my dear," Anishai purred, licking her lips. "I shall be delighted to answer them," Imoen quickened her pace.

Aerie stood up and started padding after the redhead. She'd only taken one pace, when she had to look around, her eyes widening fearfully as she saw whose hand it was clamped on her shoulder.

"Not you," Jaheira said, her green eyes narrowing menacingly. "You need a few lessons, and now is as good a time as any to start."

Aerie gulped and shivered. Unfortunately, Imoen had already gone again. She would have to face this on her own. She couldn't run; she was no coward. Although she feared trying her best might not be nearly good enough this time…

Imoen was alone for the first time since escaping. Well, there were some other thieves about but after Zyntris the others were avoiding her. Upstairs was exactly what Anishai had said; sleeping quarters, with rows of beds lined against the walls like the Monk's dorms in Candlekeep. There were a few separate bedrooms, and one door she found to be sealed magically. The enchantment was too powerful for her to break right now, so she just made a mental note of it and moved on. It was too soon to bring too much attention to herself.

She'd already learnt that Mae'Var didn't trust most of the thieves here; imagine that. She had to find who he did trust or, failing that, make it into his little circle herself. That meant not only playing along, but appearing to play extremely well. Although she was concerned about what kind of tasks a man like Mae'Var might require for her to prove herself, there was no point in speculating about it. She would just have to wait and see, and then think of something.

Since she was alone, she could gather her thoughts. As usual, it seemed that life was rushing by like a river, and she was caught up in the current. She sighed; was it always going to be like this? Aerie had said that unlike fate, which preordained and completely unavoidable, a person could have some control over their destiny. It had never felt like that to Imoen, not since fleeing her home. Jaheira might as well have kept her on a leash. Not that she thought the druid didn't have her best interests at heart, but… no one else could die while she stood by powerless. She had to start being in control.

Renal had said he would let her have this guild. She didn't know what to make of him… people were scared of him, and she doubted he'd gotten so far up in The Shadow Thieves die to his good looks and charm… although he did have a certain charisma, she had to admit. It wasn't just fear that made people follow him… they respected him as well. Brus clearly did, anyway. She felt he would probably keep his word.

Although she didn't know the first thing about running a guild… but maybe this was a chance for her to really begin a life of her own. She wouldn't be needing any assassins, she knew that, although she was sure Anishai had other talents that would be useful if she choose to stay. There were a lot of people down on their luck in a city like this, lost boys like Brus, homeless, destitute… maybe she could use it to help some of them; not just give them bread and water like the priests of Ilmater, but teach them proper skills. Maybe it could become a sort of agency that just did good things for people, and maybe a little petty larceny as well, just to keep Renal satisfied. Come to think of it, this could be lots of fun. Imoen the Guildmistress… she could get a sign and a cart, and maybe a name like Bloodscalp, only less gory. Like Pink Panther or something… or maybe she'd just stick with Imoen Winthrop… and she was sure Aerie would love helping out in the bookshop…

Had she left Aerie with the others again? Ah, well, no matter. The Elf couldn't just depend on Imoen all the time. It was important she make other friends…

* * *

Aerie tried to push back against Jaheira's sword with her own, wincing as her muscles strained from the effort. It just encouraged the druid to push harder, sending the smaller Elf sprawling backwards across the floor.

"Fool!" Jaheira snapped. "Do you really think you can match me in terms of strength? Learn to avoid or deflect my blows."

"Y-yes ma'am," the blonde whimpered, rising a little unsteadily to her feet and assuming a fighting stance again, which had been the first thing Jaheira had corrected her on. "I-I will try," she was still panting from the last round. The druid shook her head dispassionately and attacked.

Having seen Jaheira fighting before, Aerie hadn't entertained any notion that she had a chance of actually winning here. She focused on proving herself by putting up a good fight… however, that proved equally unrealistic. Nothing seemed to hurt or slow down Jaheira at all; she felt like she was fighting something made of solid iron. Every blow, even the ones Aerie successfully blocked, sent shockwaves all through the Elf, and it was much the same result every time she tried to strike back, she was just bounced away again.

It seemed utterly hopeless, and this round ended exactly the same as all the previous ones, none of which had lasted more than fifteen seconds, with Aerie sprawled on her back trying to catch her breath. Each time she had been a bit slower in getting back up; this time she wasn't sure she had any energy left. She tried to lift her arm, but it just flopped down again, the sword feeling like a great leaden weight.

"Poor, poor thing," Anishai cooed over the supine blonde, "I think she's all pooped out."

"Pitiful," Jaheira scoffed scornfully, but otherwise still completely composed. Not even a hair out of place, Aerie saw as she managed to roll on to her side, away from the thief. "How does someone so weak expect to survive here?"

Aerie gritted her teeth; there wasn't a single part of her body that didn't ache, but she knew she had to get up. It was slow, her legs wobbled and her knees banged together, and she was sure she'd fall down again as soon as someone breathed on her, but she made it, eventually.

"I… I-I'm not weak," she panted, trying her best to resume her stance. She was sure she saw Jaheira smile for a second, but the druid quickly snapped back to her stern gaze… was she enjoying hurting her like this? If she could just get one good hit on her, that would be enough of a moral victory…

"There's no faulting her bravery, is there?" Anishai shrugged helplessly.

"No," Jaheira nodded solemnly, "her courage has never been in question, at least not by me. Her common sense, on the other hand…" she sighed. "That is enough for today, child," she replaced her sword on the rack, "I think we shall have to start again with the basics, next time."

"N-next time?" Aerie gasped for breath. She couldn't say she wasn't a little relieved; she enjoyed the rush of combat, but not, she found, when it was completely one sided like this. She hoped next time was a long way off. She slumped to her knees, feeling rather ashamed for some reason, and humiliated, and she stayed like that until Minsc's shadow fell over her.

"Little Aerie will make a great hero!" He roared triumphantly, offering his hand. She took it, but… she was a little confused. "Rarely have we seen such courage from one so young, isn't that right, Boo?"

"Well… I-I think I'm probably older than Boo," she muttered and squinted, trying to work what he was talking about.

"A most impressive display," Yoshimo smiled warmly, patting her on the back. "Perhaps I can give you a few pointers for next time, hmm?"

"Erm… okay," now she was just becoming even more confused.

"The way you just kept getting back and letting her hit you!" Aerie gasped as Anishai suddenly flung herself around her. "It was exhilarating, my dear, absolutely exhilarating. Bit heart rending, too…"

"C-can't…. can't breathe…"

"Oh… I am sorry!" The thief said with a sheepish grin, loosening her grip. "Actually, I have a few minor tasks to attend to. I'm sure you can all get settled in your own." She winked and danced off.

Imoen had returned, Aerie noticed as Anishai skirted round the redhead. She wasn't sure how long the redhead had been standing in the doorway, but she greeted the Elf with a nod and a lopsided grin. The others started to head up the stairs as well.

"You okay?" Imoen asked. "You look kinda… confused."

"I don't understand," the blonde shook her head. "T-they're all treating me almost like I won. That was… far from the case…"

"Well, ya came second," Imoen giggled, slapping Aerie gently on the arm. "That's pretty good for your first time against Jaheira."

"Er… right," that really hadn't helped make any more sense of it. "D-did you look around?"

"Yeah… wasn't much to see, to be honest. But there's a great view from up on the roof; wanna look?"

The view was… spectacular, Aerie thought. She could see all the docks below her, the ships with their white sails and little flags fluttering in the wind, the sun setting and melting into the ocean, it's golden light spreading around everyone and everything like a halo. She looked down into the street below, her feet dangling over the edge as she smiled contentedly… it was almost like being home, again.

"I used to fly up to the highest peaks in Faenya Dail, just to watch the sun set," the Elf sighed dreamily.

"Faenya Dail?" Imoen asked, next to her.

"T-the city I came from, originally. High up in the mountains… i-its not such a big city as this, though. But it was home… I-I always felt safe, there."

"In Candlekeep, I would climb to the tops of the towers sometimes," Imoen appeared to be joining in Aerie's romanticizing of the past. "From there you could see miles across the ocean, little ships way off in the distance, sailing an ocean of gold. 'Course," the redhead sniffed, "old Ulraunt didn't have time for what he called romantic nonsense. He would find me and say it's all pointless; just balls of gas and light reflecting and refracting and stuff like that."

"I-I know that," Aerie shook her head, "my father was… h-he is," she corrected herself, "w-what you would call a scientist, I think; someone who studies the natural world and understand how it works. I-I think that just makes it even more amazing; t-the whole universe is governed by laws, a-and if you understand them well enough, you can do almost anything."

"Like what?"

"L-like," Aerie thought a moment and then, faintly visible in the sky, she saw the answer and pointed at it. "Fly to the moon!"

"The moon, huh?" Imoen arched an eyebrow, doubtful. "Is that possible?"

"Well, a-air gets thinner the higher up you go, so y-you would probably have to figure out some way to breathe, but… why not?"

"You ever try it?"

"Well, a-again the air gets so thin it doesn't even support an Avariel's wings… so y-you couldn't fly in the traditional sense. But, U-Uncle Quayle showed me a gnomish invention once called a gong that used an explosive force to propel bullets… m-maybe something a bit like that would work…"

"You've actually thought about this, ain't ya?"

Aerie flushed slightly, and allowed herself to deflate a little. "I…found my chores in the circus very boring, sometimes. Although, w-when they kept me a cage, the things I would think about… see, m-my brain never went to sleep completely even then, s-so I would think about onions."

"Onions?"

Aerie nodded. "See, they would peel onions close to me sometimes, so I wondered, w-who decides how many layers of skin each onion has… I-I spent two years worrying about that…"

"Okay…"

"I just had to pass the time, somehow," the Elf shrugged.

"Maybe there's an Onion Fairy?"

"Yes… I-I thought about that. Even pretended I was asleep to catch of one… but I never did," Aerie sighed wistfully. "W-what about you?"

"I've never tried to catch an Onion Fairy, no."

"No," the Elf giggled, "but, d-didn't you think some strange things when you were younger?"

"I used to think I could learn how to fly… jumping off the steps in front of the library. I managed to stay in the air for three whole seconds, once. I thought if I concentrated hard enough, I could get it up to four, but Gorion stopped me from doing it again."

Aerie tried to stifle her laugh. "I-it takes more than just willpower, I'm afraid."

"I know that now, bufflehead," Imoen punched her on the arm, "I was seven at the time, and I'd read this dumb story where you just gotta think happy thoughts."

"Happy thoughts?" Aerie knew that wouldn't work either, but she tried to think of home, of soaring above the mountains, her old friends, her mother's soft white wings closing around her, making her feel safe…

"You okay?" Imoen asked. Aerie must have staring into space again.

"Er… y-yes. Sorry… I was just thinking about my parents. W-what they're doing now," wondering if they remembered her at all, if they were still sad she'd left and never told them where she was going, or just angry she'd flown off where she shouldn't without their permission, again… "Um, sorry," she shook herself. "I-it's a beautiful sunset. Let's enjoy it…"

Aerie heard a very strange sort of gargling sound, like a machine for making coffee Quayle had shown her once, and… Imoen? The redhead saw her looking, swallowed and smiled innocently.

"Wh… what were you doing?" The Elf asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Imoen shrugged. Aerie was clearly unconvinced. "Well, y'know, we're up here, they're down there… eh?"

"That's digus… oh," the Elf squinted, peering down at the street, "is that?" There was a woman with dark hair, covered in a fur coat trotting along to the tavern down the street. "Tira?"

Aerie looked up and exchanged a look with Imoen. Shrugging helplessly, they both started to gargle.

* * *

'_Anishai…'_

The assassin extraordinaire returned to her private room, finding herself strangely drawn to her dresser and in particular, a red jewel set into a ring. Peering closely, she caught a glimpse of a narrow, slit of an eye peering back through it at her.

"Oh… it's you," she sighed wearily, "what do you want now, dearie?"

_'Things have taken an unexpected turn,'_ there was no voice to be heard; words were being beamed through the ring into her mind, like a lighthouse beam searing through fog. _'A couple of unexpected turns, in fact… but at least the later one can work to my advantage.' _

"Really? How interesting," she yawned sarcastically. "Do tell me all about it darling, and don't leave out any detail."

_'Kalah has failed. The child of the feather yet lives.'_

"Child of the wh… oh, yes; you mentioned something about some prophecy or other… don't know why a clever man like you puts any stock in those things."

_'There are ancient powers far beyond your understanding, fool!'_

"Yes, you mentioned that once or twice as well. Please go on."

_'The girl now with another enemy of mine; a daughter of Bhaal, no less.'_

"Well that's just wonderful, dear. I'm sure she'd love to hear all the things you can tell her about her father… what has it got to with me?"

_'They are with you, right now.'_

"With…?" Anishai's eyes widened in realisation. She let herself fall into her comfy armchair. "You mean… Imoen?"

'The daughter of Bhaal, yes.'

"And so, the child of feather is…"

_'Aerie, I believe is her name. Might just be a name those circus freaks gave her, I'm not sure… it hardly matters.'_

"That little blonde slip of a girl?" Anishai was trying not to laugh. "She's the one you're so afraid of?"

_'I told you…'_

"Yes, ancient powers I wouldn't understand… but honestly, she seems harmless. How is she threat to you?"

'You would not understand. It is as when a snowflake falls in a river.'

"And?"

'I knew you wouldn't understand.'

"Right… well, what is it you want done, then?"

_'Well that's a difficult one… why would anyone contact an assassin? I want the Avariel dead, fool.'_

"And the daughter of Bhaal?"

_'No… I have other plans for her.'_

"I see. And what will you give for performing this service? I mean, I will be taking quite a big risk, after all, if she's so dangerous even to you."

_'You get to live a little longer. I can give you, oh, two years back this time, hmm?'_

"Five."

_'Fine.'_

"You really are afraid, aren't you?"

_'What?'_

"I said nothing, darling. Although I don't see why you can't just kill her yourself; I'm sure you're powerful enough."

_'And what do you think would happen if I showed my true form in Athkatla? I would be hunted for decades.'_

"It's just such a shame," Anishai sighed, relaxing back into her chair. "She seemed so… sweet."

_'You're not thinking of reneging our deal are you? That would be most unwise.'_

"Don't worry, darling… I am a professional. I will do my job regardless of how I personally feel."

_'Good. No games this time. Just do it, and do it quickly.'_

"Now who's being foolish, dear? I can't just kill anyone here… Mae'Var will ask questions. As will the Bloodscalp, I expect," she slipped back further, drifting to sleep, "I shall have to wait for a good opportunity to present itself. I've never failed to hit my mark."

_'Yes, well… these people appear to be innovators when it comes to things like that. I would respect them, somewhat, if I didn't already despise them.'_

"How delightful," Anishai said, purring herself to sleep.


	13. Ch 12: Family

**Out Of The Shadows**

**Chapter Twelve:**

**Family**

Skie Silvershield and her new party used the sewers to move Eldoth across Baldur's Gate without being seen. She wanted to avoid running into any Flaming Fist officers and having to answer questions about the bound and beaten man they had with them, especially since, largely thanks to that man, she could no longer rely on her family name to help 'clear up' such matters. She used some of Eldoth's money to procure two fine horses and a wagon, into which they bungled their captive. Fortunately no one stopped them as they crossed the bridge out of the city and found themselves in open countryside bathed in warm yellow sunshine.

Kivan, who had brought his own horse, scouted ahead. Even though bandits were less of a problem now, there were still small bands scattered along the coast, Ankhegs still burrowed below the ground not far from, and Kobolds, Gibberlings, Xvarts… there was a lot to be wary of. Bears and Wolves as well, although unlike Gibberlings, they at least had enough sense to stay away from armed Elves and Humans most of the time.

Viconia, Coran and Safana were all in the back. Skie could hear giggling and the occasional wet sucking sound from the later two, which she found disturbing. In a way they were perfect for eachother; both lived solely for their own pleasure. But she imagined Viccy back there shaking her head critically, if she wasn't passed out already. They were supposed to be making sure their slippery captive didn't wake up and somehow manage to break free of his bonds, as pesky people who were being led most probably to their own execution were likely to try and do.

That left Skie and Tenya up front, with Xan sat between them currently taking the reins.

"How long will it take to get to get to Athkatla?" The Priestess yawned as the wagon bounced over a rock.

"I don't know," Skie answered as they bounced again, although she had studied the map. "About a tenday, if all goes well," and assuming their butts could handle the abuse. "Of course, it would be faster if we could take a boat," she chided. The Umberlant narrowed her eyes and glared at her, but said nothing. She'd been surprisingly quiet all morning. Skie surmised that since she had been awake all night, the girl was simply too tired now to be mad at everything anymore. Minutes later, Skie found herself smiling as she watched Tenya's head bobbing and then snapping back up, rubbing her eyes as she tried to stay awake. Anyone else looking could be fooled into thinking she was a quite normal kid.

Skie decided to let Tenya fall off. To sleep, that is. In the meantime, she found herself looking back over her shoulder at the city she was leaving behind. Not that there was much to see from here; across the river, huge stone walls stretched for a mile or so in each direction. She could see the peaks of the Ducal Palace, little flags fluttering, and some other towers. It occurred to her that it might be some time before she returned here. In fact, this might be the last view she ever got of her home. She'd really made a complete hash of things here; perhaps in Amn, where the Silvershield name wouldn't mean anything, she could begin again. She wondered if she should have left some message for her father…

As they approached the first bend in the road, Tenya suddenly bolted upright, demanding that they stop. Xan shrugged and sighed resignedly, commanding the horses to halt as the Priestess hopped down.

"Why are we stopping?" Skie asked, climbing down as well.

Tenya had already stomped off the road and was disappearing into the trees. "I want to look at something," she said, contradicting Skie's expectations.

"First I'm taking orders from a woman who acts like a child," Xan started mumbling and grumbling, "now it's an actual child… I suppose I can't complain, really. Well, I can, but it's not like any of you will listen…"

"Uh-huh," Skie nodded, not listening. "Wait here, will you?" She said, and didn't listen to his reply. She knew Tenya was capable of looking after herself, but… she was only thirteen. And she was tired. Skie couldn't let her wander off on her own. She headed out as well, beneath the trees, pushing her way through thick undergrowth and nettles; she would be amazed if Tenya had managed to get through all this without getting stung, at least. When she came out the other side it wasn't a whole lot better; the grass was knee height, concealing whatever animal droppings might have lain there. Skie still hadn't gotten the hang of nature.

Treading very carefully, Skie approached the house. It was old, a little dilapidated, but it didn't look like it had actually been abandoned that long. Someone could still move in and make it liveable again, if they wanted to. Why anyone would want a home outside the city and away from any other settlement was beyond her. Peace and quiet, maybe, but it certainly wouldn't be safe. She didn't yet realise whose house it was, and that safety something they never concerned themselves with much.

Regardless, there was no sign of Tenya. Judging by the dirt that had built up around the door, it didn't look like she had gone inside. Skie headed round the back. She found the young Priestess there, leaning on her staff in front of a mound of earth about six feet long.

"You are lucky this is no longer my land home," Tenya sighed, hearing the woman approach; Skie hadn't been trying to sneak up on her. "Or I would have killed you for intruding."

Skie wasn't worried; for all her talk, she knew from hearing Imoen and some of the others talk about their adventures that Tenya had never actually succeeded in killing anybody. She was curious, however; the young Priestess hadn't struck her as the type to get sentimental. But then she hadn't known her very long, and first impressions could be a little misleading. Skie had thought Eldoth was a charming, lovable rogue. She supposed Tenya just knew, like she did, that this could be the last time she got to see her old home. And that grave…

"Your mother?" Skie guessed.

"Umberlee is mother now," the Priestess sighed, reciting what she had clearly been taught many times, although with little conviction. "But this was my earth mother, yes."

"I'm sorry," Skie looked around uncertainly, wondering if she should go. Perhaps Tenya needed to grieve. It seemed unlikely, but perhaps for that reason she couldn't do it in front of anyone even though the girl herself might want to…

"You wouldn't be sorry if you had known her," or it seemed she might just want to talk, and for someone else to listen. Skie could do that, surely. "That dark elf woman thinks she's really bad… but my mother would have eaten her for breakfast. She once ate a squirrel in front of me. I'd been keeping it as a sort of pet. She said I was learning an important lesson."

"Okay," there was a lot Skie was now beginning to understand.

"It worried me that I didn't understand what the lesson was, since she beat me every time I got a question about Umberlee even a little wrong. Luckily, was never tested on the squirrel eating thing. I once saw sure her drain all the water out of man's eyes just because he was looking at her," Skie blinked a few times, making sure all her eye water stayed where it was. "And we lived here, by ourselves," Tenya sighed, "I thought everyone was just like that. After the men came and attacked her… I tried to heal her, but she died," she said, matter of factly. "I dragged her out here and buried her myself. And then… then Imoen came, and she helped me," the weary girl shook her head. "She didn't have to, but she did. She didn't have to come to me in the warehouse either, but she did."

"Imoen is a good person," Skie nodded, just glad the Priestess hadn't gone into any more detail about her earth mother's antics.

"Yes… which means," Tenya furrowed her brow at the grave, "everything this bitch ever told me is wrong. She lied to me, every single day."

Skie was surprised by the sudden swear word, but Tenya's demeanor hadn't really changed. She was still exhausted. "Do… do you hate her?"

"No," the girl shook her head, rubbing her eyes again. "I want to, sometimes. But I don't. Is that strange?"

"No," Skie shook her head. This was something she actually understood… well, perhaps not really understood, but she knew the feeling. When she'd heard her father had died, she was devastated; Eldoth had restrained her, to stop her rushing home right away. Despite all the crappy things her father had done to her, keeping her locked in her room, then disowning her when he found out the truth about Eldoth. Even in death she felt she had to speak to me again, put things right… they didn't see eye to eye, but she didn't want him to hate her. He was her father; if nothing else, she owed her whole existence to him. Of course, it turned out he hadn't really been that dead and they resurrected him the next day. And it turned out not even a near death experience would make him acknowledge her again.

"There is just one thing I want to do," Tenya yawned; poor thing really did need rest. But the Priestess dropped her staff. Stepping forward, she took a deep breath trying to build up the energy she needed for what she was going to do next, which was jump, stamp and literally dance on her mother's grave.

"Don't you dare get up, you big limpet butt!" The girl yelled, kicking at the dirt, her face quickly reddening from the exertion and the shouting. Yeah, this was much more like the Tenya she knew. "Face that sank a thousand ships! Here," she pulled a small bottle from her belt pouch, and started to flick little droplets from it onto the grave. "Brow, hands and feet, mother… brow, hands and feet! Am I getting that right, now? Am I? Huh?" Tenya started kicking more aggressively into the side of the grave, until she finally started running out of steam. "You just… you stay dead…" the girl panted.

Skie wasn't quite sure what she was seeing, but when it seemed to be over she asked, "are you… done?"

"Yes," Tenya answered primly, picking up her staff, "I can leave here now. I know what a weak bladder you have, so if you need to go, you should do so now. We will not stop again today."

Skie didn't know it, but the time she and Tenya had got back to the others, one side of her mouth had curled up into a grin. She didn't know why it was, but she was actually starting to like the girl. Tenya, Skie thought, wasn't evil; just very, very angry, and perhaps with good reason to be. She seemed to have a lot of conflicting emotions. But, Skie knew several people who were complete brats at that age but who somehow managed to turn out as fairly decent folk. Hope wasn't lost for her, yet.

"Why did we stop?" Coran asked as they returned. He and his beau and Viconia had climbed out, and Kivan had ridden back to find out what the delay was.

The noblewoman shrugged apologetically. "I guess she just needed to get some things off her chest," she explained.

"Aww… you look sleepy, dahling," Safana drawled, approaching the young Priestess. "You should get some rest. And maybe later I will do something with your hair, hmmm?" The red haired thief put a hand to each side of the girl's head, bunching up her raven locks. "I think you'd look delightful with a couple of little pony tails."

Tenya squinted at the thief, her right eye twitching violently. "I should just kill you now," she hissed.

"So!" The noblewoman clapped her hands together, wearing a big grin. "When did you two get together?" She wasn't really that interested; she was just trying to save Safana from some nasty internal bleeding.

"Oh that is a long story, fair lady," Coron grinned back at her, "but do not forget, I gave you a chance. You spurned me." And despite all that happened, it wasn't a decision Skie regretted at all.

"It's not really such a long story," Safana interjected, leaning against the Elf. "I think we met in the Friendly Arm just a month ago?" She looked to Coran for confirmation. He nodded.

"We wanted to kill each other at first," he explained, "but, some Elven wine, a couple of Dwarven ales… and, well, you can guess the rest." Safana let out a single giggle.

"I don't want to," Skie gasped out. They looked at her oddly. "Uh… t-that is, I wish I had been there."

"It was a grand night out," Coran reminisced, looking wistfully into the eyes of his lover who now had her arms draped around him. "I think I've finally met a woman who really understands me," the Elf said, as if it was an innuendo. Skie supposed anything could be, if you said it right. The two lovebirds soon had their heads pressed together and each appeared to be trying to bite the lower lip off the other.

Xan stood close beside the noblewoman. "Impressive recovery," he commented quietly.

"Thanks," honestly though, Skie gave them until they reached Athkatla, and they started running to lots of other pretty girls and boys. She tried not to compare what she was seeing to what she had been like with Eldoth. Neither Coran or Safana had ever been a wholly honest person, but maybe they really were in love; she had no right to judge just because she'd had a bad experience. It was hard though, so mostly she just tried not to look.

In the meantime, Tenya was stood beside the wagon, sniffing.

"Is something wrong?" Skie asked.

"I smell wee," the girl explained. She stood with one foot on the step to the drivers seat, and pulled herself up just enough to sniff inside the little window there. "It's him; he's weed."

Skie regretted not having put a bit more thought into the practicalities of transporting a prisoner such a long distance. She knew that at some point, someone was going to have to give him water, feed him, and that thought alone made her feel slightly sick. She'd mentally completely glossed over every other human need.

The group gathered at the back of the wagon, while Kivan jerked it open. Eldoth, still bruised and beaten and now stinking having been wallowing in his own excretions, was momentarily dazzled by the sudden influx of bright sunlight. But he was awake.

"Yes," he laughed, "I would give it five minutes if I were you…"

Coran and Kivan each grabbed one of the bard's shoulder, sliding him out and placing him roughly on his feet.

"So, what is taking place here?" Eldoth staggered slightly. "Seems to be a bit of a reunion… such a shame I didn't bring my lute. I could have regaled with the sad tale of man, wrongly accused, and betrayed, yes, betrayed! By the very woman he had loved, sheltered, protected..."

"Oh, shut up, Eldoth," Skie snapped, "no one is going to your… your poppycock anymore!"

"Oh, but you always did love my c…" he suddenly fell back. It was an… instinctive reaction, on Skie's part, punching him in the face. She understood now how almost every other person felt when they met him.

"So… you're not completely useless," Tenya grinned.

"Now listen, all of you!" Eldoth spat out angrily. "Are you really going to just take the word of this ill tempered little murderess and a stupid, naïve girl, over mine?"

"Who are you calling a naïve girl?" The Umberlant quirked.

"Me," Skie rolled her eyes, "that one's talking about me."

"Oh… well that's fine, then."

"I am sorry, Eldoth old friend," Coran's usually wide smile took on a more serious edge, "but we have all seen the letters. Betraying comrades, putting damsels in danger… just not something I can get over."

"Nor I," Xan sighed, "and I owe the daughter of Bhaal an additional debt, which I'm afraid is not something any amount of your gold can cover."

Kivan snarled his lips. If you listened carefully, you might have heard a small growl as well.

"Well, then… just think," Eldoth hissed, "Viconia… Safana… I can offer you far more than they can!" He was hoping to appeal to their natural greed.

"You, jaluk?" The Drow woman flung her long silver hair back, laughing mockingly. "You have nothing to offer me."

"Yeah, we have all your gold, and I just," Safana shrugged her shoulders, "I've never found you that attractive. Sorry."

He had struck out all round. But that didn't mean Eldoth was just about to give up. He spat again and launched into a tirade of colourful metaphors and euphemisms that called into question the men's manliness and Skie's virtue… well, he would know all about all of that.

"Enough of this banter," Tenya yawned, "someone is going to have clean up in there. You!" She pointed at Viconia. "You have not done much. You do it."

"When we require Shar's blessing, I shall oblige," Viconia glared at the girl, "if it suits me, and her. Until then, I take no orders from any rivvin, especially not tiny ones, and I do not wash floors."

"Well don't look at me," Coran shrugged, while Tenya and Viconia engaged in a staring contest.

"Fine," Safana rolled up her up sleeves and stepped forward, amazing everyone; Viconia even lost the contest, because she was so amazed. "I guess if no one else is man enough, then I'll do it."

Coran looked panicked. "No, no… I was just joking, dear," he said, Safana's slight jibe clearly far more effective on him than any of Eldoth's best written insults. "I don't want you getting your pretty little fingers all dirtied."

"Oh… that's so sweet of you, dear!" The thief smiled and pecked him on the cheek.

"And you will have to clean him as well," Tenya, looking a bit triumphant, said to Skie. "We can't have him stinking all the way to Amn."

"Why me?" Skie protested, afraid of what such close proximity to Eldoth might bring.

"Well, you… you've already seen his… his…" Tenya's face flushed red with embarrassment. The girl had to steady herself. "His man things!" She blurted out.

It was easy to forget that Tenya really was still innocent in a number of ways. Skie supposed she did have to take some responsibility here, and agreed to clean Eldoth's clothes and person. But someone else was going to have to feed him. She prepared a basin, and led the bard a short way into the woods. Not all on her own of course; she made sure Kivan stayed at least with in listening distance, and brought a knife with her; not really for defence, she just had no intention of untying any of his bonds to get his clothes off. She would figure out some way to get them back on later.

"Skie," the Bard whispered softly, as soon as he believed they were in the clearing alone. "My love…"

"Don't say anything, Eldoth," she sighed. She knew he was going to try something. "I trusted you, once… but you betrayed our friends, and you betrayed me. And I see it all now; how you used, how you kept me locked up in that room like a… a worthless plaything…"

"I'm sorry," he shook his head sadly. He was a good actor, sometimes; he almost seemed sincere. "I've made mistakes, I know. But I just wanted you to be safe… for us to be together, and you not to worry…"

"Our friends might be dead, because of you!" She snapped.

"I know… I know. And believe me, my sweet, not a day has gone by when I haven't thought about that. I just… I was so desperate for you to be happy. I was prepared to take on the burden of that guilt alone, for you."

"For me?" Her eyes glittered as she turned to face him, dropping a cloth into the basin.

"I still want to be with you, my sweet."

"So… you forgive me?"

"Of course! I might have thought the same, were I in your place."

"You still love me?"

"Always."

"And… we can still be together?"

"Yes! If that's what you want, then by the Gods, yes!"

Her eyes stopped glittering. Her face hardened, and she started to smile. A cruel, mocking smile. And then she laughed loudly. Eldoth was perplexed.

"Oh… I… I'm sorry 'my love'," she said, wiping away her tears, "you'll just never understand why that's so funny. Now shut up and get in the bucket."

The bard, although not comprehending, did try one last angle of attack.

"They're going to me, you know," he said, as he splashed down. "If they live, they will kill me. Has all our time together really meant so little to you?"

Skie did know that. She tried not to think about it, and when she did she told herself that whatever Imoen and Jaheira decided to do with him, it was what he deserved. She was washing her hands of him. Besides, murder wasn't really Imoen's style, was it? Even though she was the daughter of… well, it didn't matter. She was washing her hands of him.

Later, she had managed to clear all such thoughts from her mind when she returned and found Tenya fast asleep in the back of the wagon, snoring. She was a pretty girl, Skie thought, when she was asleep. Covering the Priestess, she went and sat up front again with Xan.

She spared one last look back at Baldur's Gate as it finally disappeared over the hill. She thought again about writing a letter to her father, but couldn't think of much to say apart from 'So long, and screw you, berk'. She knew she had made mistakes. But what kind of family just completely turned its back on someone because of a mistake? Alright, it was a big mistake, but it wasn't as though she had murdered priests of Ilmater.

No; that was no family she wanted to belong to. Skie realised that the family she was with now, argumentative and dysfunctional as it was, was the best family she had ever had.

And so, she started looking forward.


	14. Ch 13: Street Magic

**Out Of The Shadows**

**Chapter Thirteen:**

**Street Magic**

Imoen staggered hazily down the hall. All things considered, she had slept quite well, as far as she could remember. Still, she felt drained and somewhat detached, like a part of her refused to leave dreamland. Maybe she would feel better after breakfast. She entered the little dining room and found that she was the only person awake in the whole guild, apart from a greasy round, balding brick shed of a man who was preparing breakfast. The kitchen was in the same room as where everyone ate, which was a shame since it meant she could see him wiping his face with his hands before throwing some more vegetables into the pot.

"What'll it be?" He asked gruffly as she approached the long table that separated him from everyone else.

"Croissant?" She asked optimistically.

"This ain't the Den of Seven Vales lass," he scoffed, "we got no fancy foreign stuff like that. We got soup, we got eggs, we got bread."

"Fine… I'll have some bread, a Chicken abortion, and two fried slices of dead pig, please."

"'More like it," he said and proceeded to slap it all on a plate. Again just using his hands, which she could see now had slightly overgrown blackened fingernails.

"Hmm… yummy," she smiled sarcastically and sat down in the corner, wondering if she could spare some money for a tavern or Inn; come to think of it, that was probably where everyone was.

At least someone seemed to still be on a high; Aerie flounced into the room, and sat at the table opposite her, smiling contentedly, still.

"Morning, Aerrers," the redhead said with a faint smile.

"Morning," the Elf beamed. But then she furrowed her brow and tilted her head slightly. "H-how do you feel?"

"Fine, I guess," Imoen shrugged.

"No… no headaches, or anything?"

"No. No headaches, no strange voices," no 'other' Imoen… Aerie's medicine seemed to still be working. It was probably nothing really, anyway; all just a symptom of the panic attack she'd been having. "I'm just still kind of tired," maybe there were some errant thoughts that had stopped her sleeping properly. Faces from the past… but it was all kind of fuzzy, now.

"Are you sure you slept well?"

"Honestly, Aerie, I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me," Imoen changed the subject, "what about you? What was it like sleeping in an actual bed?"

"Oh… the mattress was so soft. I felt like I was floating!" The Elf beamed and stretched out her arms. Imoen found it to be one of the hardest mattresses she had ever lain on, but she supposed if you were only used to that shelf. "B-but I couldn't sleep like that, so I lay on the floor instead."

"Okay," no pleasing some people, Imoen guessed. "Did you do that other thing I asked you to?"

"Oh, yes," Aerie unbuttoned a pouch on her belt, and pulled out two sets of papers; one set were the notes Imoen had swiped from Irenicus, written in Elven, the other a version of them Aerie had translated into common. "I'm… I-I'm afraid it doesn't really say much. It's mostly just notes and observations about various types of experiment… h-he talks about his followers. There was something wrong with them, a-and it seems like he was trying to help them. But then…"

He forgot about his followers and it became all about the Bhaalspawn, and Imoen. He talked about extracting something from her, but how it needed to be nurtured made to grow more… so, some kind of affliction and somehow she was the cure? That didn't seem right; not like him at all. Imoen had a slightly biased opinion, of course, having been imprisioned and tortured and made to watch her friend sliced up, but he wasn't trying to help anybody. Whatever he wanted, he wanted it for himself. There was also a list of names; possibly other children of Bhaal scattered around Amn and the surrounding territories. Abdel, Talyn, Amber, Illasera, Nathan, Gromnir… none of them were names she recognised, yet she pored over them for some time. They were all her brothers and sisters… probably about half of them would try to kill her if they knew the truth of who they were. What a mess.

"Are you okay?" Aerie asked, looking concerned as Imoen had been silent for some time.

"Uh… yeah," the redhead stuffed all the papers into her own pouch. "Thanks for this."

"It was nothing," the Elf smiled sweetly. "I-I want to show you something else."

"What?"

"Well… I-I'm glad to be out, o-of the Circus I mean. But I didn't waste all my time there; I-I learnt a few tricks. Can I show you?"

"Sure," Imoen shrugged. It might be fun. She watched Aerie place three mugs upside down on the table, and then place three small balls about an inch across on top of each of them. The old cup and balls trick… Imoen had only seen it about eight hundred times. In fact, ol'Puffguts Winthrop used to do it sometimes in The Candlekeep Inn; it was sleight of hand, rather than real magic, and as such it easily dazzled and confused learned sages. Still, she might as well play along, if it made Aerie happy.

One by one, the Elf picked up each ball and made each one 'magically' disappear in her hand by fluttering her fingers. She then tapped the top of each mug, and then lifted it to show that the ball had appeared underneath and placed it back on top. She then took each of the side balls and threw them away, and put the middle ball under the middle cup, tapped the lid, lifted it… all three balls underneath! Amazing! At least, it would have been if Imoen didn't know exactly what Aerie was doing. The Elf juggled them, threw them away, then tapped the middle cup again, lifted it up again to reveal one big ball, and then two more big balls under each other cup.

It was like this; there were in fact four smaller balls to start with. One was already beneath the first cup. When she revealed it and placed it on top, she slipped a larger ball inside. With the second cup, she slipped in the first she had vanished as she lifted it, and with the third cup she simply picked the ball up with one hand, moved it to her other hand and slipped back underneath when she lifted the cup, and then again slipped in of the large balls when she lifted it up. With one ball already in the middle cup, when she pretended she putting in just one she was in fact slipping in two. She then just had to slip the final big ball under the middle back; the juggling and the throwing away helped distract Imoen for a split second as she did. The Elf was far better at doing all this than Winthrop had been, but the redhead could still see every one of her moves.

But Aerie wasn't done yet. She had a soft, knowing smile on her face which Imoen didn't understand at first, but it became clear momentarily. The blonde did the same trick again, but this time when she was supposed to reveal all three smaller balls under the middle cup, she and leant forward, resting her head on her elbow.

"How many balls do you think are under each cup?" The Elf asked. Imoen arched an eyebrow suspiciously; clearly, there was something up here, but she went ahead and said what she thought anyway.

"Three in the middle, and two big ones either side," she shrugged.

Aerie closed her eyes, her nose wrinkling slightly as she started to lean back still with a large grin on her face. She lifted the middle cup; one small ball. She lifted each side cup; one small ball beneath each. She leaned back further, lifting each cup again to reveal each of the larger balls.

"Okay," Imoen chuckled, shaking her head. She knew that Imoen knew, and she used that knowledge against her. That was… smart. And nice; she knew Imoen wasn't stupid, either. "You got me, kid… you got me."

Aerie's smile broadened, and she held up a finger; her performance wasn't over yet. Once again, the same trick, but this time she just made a little visually more exciting by using her actual summoning skills; at least, Imoen assumed that the three little chirruping chicks she revealed where there had been the larger balls before hadn't been stored up Aerie's sleeve. And for the finish, she tapped the middle cup one last time and when she lifted it, there was a flurry and fluttering of feathers as a white dove flew out. Imoen applauded.

"And you never thought about performing in the circus?" The redhead asked disbelievingly.

The Elf's head withdrew slightly as her cheeks flushed. "N-no… I'm not good with crowds. To be honest, I-I've never done this in front of anyone before."

"You're good," Imoen still wasn't sure how she'd done the second trick. "Hey, if you could fool me, you could fool just about anyone. With all that sleight of hand stuff, I… I don't suppose you've ever thought about being a pickpocket?"

Aerie shook her head.

* * *

The reason Imoen had asked was that later that day, Anishai took them all out to work the streets… not like that. She took them to the Bridge District which was, as the name suggested, a whole neighbourhood built upon a thick, stone bridge. The river that ran through the centre of Athkatla marked a physical divide between the rich and poor halves of the city, and so this was the only place where they overlapped. Well, there was also The Promenade but Anishai, the guards there had doubled because of all the incidents lately.

"Now then, my pretties," Anishai stood, hands on hips, in the shadow of a tavern. "I take it you all know why you are here, yes? There are a lot of merchants around here whose purses have grown a bit too heavy. So, show me what you can do to relieve them of some of their burden," she explained as if they were performing a great humanitarian service. "Simple pickpocketing to start with. I don't expect you to write a receipt for that, but the same rules as mugging still apply; never take any more than fifty golds worth. Of course, it might be harder to prove it if you get caught… but you won't get caught, will you?"

"I will not get caught," Jaheira folded her arms and glared at her, "because I will not be taking part in this ridiculous game."

"Now, now… no need to get testy. I appreciate that you two are," she put a hand on Minsc's chest, while her other started rubbing Jaheira's upper arm, "hmm… muscle. And you," she dropped her hand from each of them and stroked Aerie, "magic, healing… all that's useful, sometimes. But what about you two?" Imoen and Yoshimo were the only ones left. "You're surely up to a challenge, hmm? Who can pinch more? Oh that's right, yes, a competition! How wonderful…"

"Heh," Imoen stood straight, although with one foot further to her side than the other, and arms folded confidently. "Only if he's ready for a good licking."

Yoshimo arched an eyebrow. "Is that what is on offer if I lose? In that case, I give up now."

Imoen stuck her tongue out. "In your dreams, muttonhead."

"Actually, last night you and Aerie were both…"

"Can we just get on with it," Jaheira slapped her own forehead, rubbing it side to side slightly, "please?"

Yoshimo went first, picking out a merchant in a bright green waistcoat, tights and a round cap and most importantly who seemed to have plenty of money to spare.

"Excuse me, good sir," the Kara-Turran bowed as he approached. "As you can tell by my appearance I am not from this fair city. I wonder if you can help me find the Temple of Lathander…"

Ah, the old lost tourist routine. Imoen had learnt that when she'd ran for a short time with the Thieves Guild back in Baldur's Gate. The man was very helpful, and as Yoshimo repeated back each one of his directions, apparently to confirm that he'd got them right, he deliberately pointed made big hand gestures. Just like in Aerie's sleight of hand trick, really, when she did the juggle and threw to make you look someone else. As the stranger looked where Yoshi was pointing, his other, not pointing hand, relieved the fellow of about twenty gold. Good job, mentioning the Temple of Lathander, too. Surely, only a good, honest person would have reason to go there.

Sure, it was a classic, but Imoen had come up with a slightly different version, which she liked more because it was far cheekier. Although it carried a bit more risk too, so she had to pick her target very carefully… there was someone who looked just about stupid enough. He was carrying what looked a reasonably priced cane and wearing striped pantaloons.

She went in carrying a map. Same as Yoshimo, she smiled and innocently and explained that she was from out of town and lost. She made him hold part of the map to show her the way.

"So, are you sure it's left here?" She asked.

"Oh, yes; left, right, left, right, left, right, and left again," he asked.

"Sounds like you've given me my marching orders. So right here… here, let me hold that for you," the man handed her his cane so he could point out the route more clearly. The important thing now was to just keep yapping pointlessly so that even he finally got lost in what she was saying. "So left at this sign… you haven't got a little bag you put coins in, have you?" That was very cheeky, but amazingly it worked and he handed over his purse. Finally, she nodded and thanked him and left, quickly, disappearing around a building to meet the others.

"Got his purse, and his cane," she boasted twirling it. Yoshimo shook his head, obviously impressed but not sure how that could have worked without some kind of charm spell being used. "Top that, bozo."

"Good sir!" Yoshimo ran out into street up to another (he'd ran around the tavern a few times beforehand just to make sure he looked really out of breath). "Please… sir," he panted, hands on knees. "Please, sir… you must help me. I need to report a crime!"

"A crime?" The gentleman looked about warily, making sure he was safe.

"Over there… in that alley. There was a girl… pretty thing. Crying. I went over to try and help, but… it was a trap! I was set upon by two, or perhaps three rapscallions! They stole my purse."

"Good Gods!" The gentleman could barely contain his outrage. "Well, clearly you must report this to Lieutenant Aegisfield at once!"

"Indeed sir. Although I don't know what I will do then… you see, they took all the money I had earned from working at the docks, shifting heavy crates around all day. Now I cannot afford this month's rent for my room."

"You poor man. Here, I have some coin," the gentleman held out his purse. "Perhaps this will tide you over until your coin is recovered?"

"Oh no… I could not…"

"I insist, please!"

"Well, in that case sir, I thank you."

"Not a problem," the gentleman stepped forward, putting a hand on Yoshimo's shoulder. "You know, it's honest, hardworking folk like you that keep this nation's great economy going." He looked about to well up.

"Indeed sir. I thank you again," Yoshimo decided it was time to get out of there.

Well… when it came to theatrics like that, there was no way Imoen was going to be outdone…

"So-o cold…" the redhead's voice trembled. She was sat on a low brick wall, huddled up with Aerie under a large thick blanket.

"Um… there, there… er, sis," usually actresses wanted more lines, but Aerie had only agreed to play along on the grounds that this would be the only thing she said. "It'll be okay…"

It wasn't long before people started to stop and ask them what was wrong… indeed, pretty soon a small crowd had gathered to offer comfort to the two obviously distraught young women.

"I'm sorry," Imoen sniffed, accepting a nice warm drink from a kindly old woman. "It's just, we've travelled such a long way, my sister and I…"

"Sister?" One of the men asked, doubtfully.

"Yes… er, uterinal. Same mother, a Half-Elf, but her father was an Elf and mine was Human… but that hardly matters now!" The redhead sobbed loudly. "Although… her father is the reason we came to this city. You see, he vanished, years ago, but there was a man here who said he could track him down for her… not for me, you see. I just… I wanted so much to make my sister happy!" Imoen blubbed. "Look at her!" She put one hand Aerie's face. The Elf's eyes bulged out slightly in surprise. "Isn't that the saddest looking Elf you've ever seen? I just wanted her to smile, once…" the gathered agreed that Aerie's face was indeed sad.

"What happened?" A young man asked.

"We… we used the last of our gold to hire the man, but… h-he kept asking us for more. Said we had to pay his expenses… and we needed a place stay as well. I ended up working a barmaid part time, and my sister, she… she pawned her ring! It was the last thing she had to remember her father by… and the man we hired, he just vanished, and now we have nothing!" She wept profusely. "We… we can't even afford a ship to take us home…"

"That scum!" They gasped.

"Sounds like you were had, lass," a guard had come over.

"But, why?" Imoen sobbed and shook her head in stunned disbelief at the cruelty of the world. She wasn't the only one; Aerie found the whole story particularly tragic. "Why would anyone take advantage of two innocent women like that? We trusted him… why are there such bad people…"

"Oh here, dear," the old woman said, "I can spare ye a bit of change if it'll help…"

"Thank you," she sniffed, "it will. Maybe… maybe we can afford a cup of clean water tonight, at least…"

It wasn't long before everyone gathered was dropping change in Imoen's lap. Not just chance either; rings and necklaces and even a small cake… she ate that right away.

"Well," Anishai arched an eyebrow when they returned with the loot, "I think you went well over the fifty gold limit, but I guess since those people gave it all freely, it doesn't count as theft… still, rather shameless, I thought."

"Me too," Aerie squeeked.

"Still, effective. I suppose I will have to concede defeat," Yoshimo bowed gracefully.

"Yeah… but I'm not licking you," Imoen quirked, "you understand, that was a figure of a speech?"

"Oh, you westerners with your strange phrases," Yoshimo shook his head disappointedly.

"Well, what a productive use of our time that was," Jaheira looked frustrated. It was understandable; she was a physical woman, but the last few hours she'd had nothing to do but stand there, waiting on the others. Imoen hadn't thought about that until now; she supposed she should really have asked the druid to look around the city a bit more, see if she could find other sources for the information they were after, while she got on with the thieving. Maybe then Jaheira wouldn't be so tense… being responsible was complicated.

"You remember the plan, Jae," Imoen said, taking her a bit aside while Anishai packed up the loot. "We prove what good thieves we can be, then Mae'Var can't ignore us. Don't worry… I'm sure he's not gonna go down without at least a bit of a fight."

"I can only hope," the druid said, clenching her fist.

"Well, let's not push our luck around here anymore," Anishai called over to them, "we'll head back and then I can discuss your… performance," she grinned like a snake.

As they started to make their way back, Imoen noticed Aerie looking, well… bothered.

"What's the matter, kid?" Imoen asked. "Not having fun?"

"I-I'm not sure how I feel," the Elf answered. "I feel assured, s-seeing that people can be so generous, even in places like this…"

"That's the important lesson to take away from today, I think," the redhead nodded emphatically.

"B-but we were just taking advantage of their generosity…"

"Well… yeah," Imoen tugged her own collar slightly. Okay, so… she was a bit of a rogue. If she hadn't been completely turned off books when she was young by being forced to read so many of them, she might have started studying magic sooner. If she was strong, she'll have been a fighter and used her deadly martial arts skills to protect the innocent… but she'd never been strong, and come to think of it, Aerie was the first person she'd ever been able to beat in martial combat. Aerie, who was about an inch shorter than her and half the weight; not a terribly impressive feat, was it? So anyway, she was a rogue first, and sometimes that meant doing things that were a bit questionable in order to gain an advantage. Except that, today, she hadn't really stopped to question what she was doing. Aerie, however, never stopped.

"It's… not like anyone really got hurt," Imoen tried to shrug it off.

"But that story you… you made up," Aerie looked at her oddly, "t-things like that really do happen to people, don't they?"

"Well… sometimes… I guess…"

"W-what if the next person those people talk to really does need help, b-but they decide not to help them because they realise they were lied to by us?"

"Yeah, it's… possible… I suppose," Imoen hung her head, her face reddening slightly. She really hadn't thought… she had thought, that it was a bit of playacting, a bit of fun… but she hadn't thought that anyone else might actually get hurt because of it. Perhaps not directly, but, there was no refuting Aerie's logic, was there? Damn that Elf and her thoughtfulness… now she was looking at Imoen like she was expecting an explanation that would rationalise everything. But… Imoen think of any. She'd actually been rendered speechless, and that took some doing.

Aerie apparently realised that there was no answer coming. She panicked, a little, and hung her head, ashamed and embarrassed, although more that she'd embarrassed Imoen than anything else. "I-I'm sorry," she said, "I know I don't really understand yet how things are here. O-or what people need to do to… survive…"

"No," Jaheira spoke. Imoen jerked up suddenly; she hadn't noticed the Druid standing right behind them. "Do not apologise, child," she said to Aerie, "especially not when you are the only one making sense, here. Of course, it might have been more useful if you had spoken your mind before taking part in that little one act drama…"

The redhead rolled her eyes. "Okay, Jae, if you're so wise, why didn't you say anything?"

"You wanted to make your own choices. Hopefully you will learn from your mistakes as well."

"Great," Imoen breathed out slowly. "I'm sorry, Aerie. You're right; we shouldn't have done that. I guess I got a bit carried away with the competition with Yoshi… I didn't think. From now on, I promise I'll be an honest thief. I'll only pick pockets and cheat people without lying to them. Well, I'll try. You gotta know, I'm not always perfect, right?"

"No," Aerie smiled, "i-it's okay."

"And sometimes," the redhead sighed, "we have to some things that are a little bit bad, in order to do something good. I know that totally makes no sense to you now; it didn't to me at first, either. But it will. Trust me."

They returned to the guild. Anishai seemed pleased with their work; she made particular mention of how Imoen had swiped a drink off a man she'd done the map trick on outside the tavern. She really admired the cheekiness of that. She went to report to Mae'Var right away, saying she thought they were ready for harder and possibly more dangerous challenges and the couple of people who had at least some musical talent played their lutes and beat on some make shift drums, much to the resident cooks dismay.

So, the rest of them had a small party, involving a few of the other thieves. Imoen didn't like to drink much, but she didn't really need to to lose her inhibitions. In fact, she found she could have just as much fun as other people by not drinking, and got to avoid the whole melancholy stage of alchohol consumption and the waking up in a shed with a dead dog lying next to you; it was never nice when that happened. In case, it wasn't long before she was dancing on the table, and then swinging from the ceiling beams while people clapped and cheered her on to ever greater stunts.

Another person who didn't like to drink much, apparently, was Aerie. She'd only had a few sips of Elven wine and, although it would have been comical if it had made lose her inhibitions and get up, singing, dancing, picking a fight with the cook, it didn't. If anything, all this going on around her just seemed to make her withdraw into herself even more. She retreated into a corner, away from everybody.

"You're a quiet one, aren't you?" Aerie's body involuntarily tensed, and she withdrew slightly more into the corner as Anishai sat next to her. "Oh, do I frighten you, dear?"

"I…" Aerie gasped, only now aware of her own reaction. She didn't know how to answer; she could envision both 'yes' and 'no' being taken badly. So she just resorted to honesty, again. "A… a little…"

"But that's good," the assassin smiled softly, "you see, close as we are right now, I could snap your neck far faster than you could utter a syllable to any one of your spells. Unless you have… what do you call it? Contingency? A pre-cast spell that triggers under special circumstances, like if I were to attack you, hm?"

"I… I haven't," the Elf admitted. It was a good idea. She would have to learn that as fast as possible, if she got out of this…

"Here's another tip, dear; don't always tell the truth," A knife shot it into her hand, Aerie jumping back instantly, although her heart jumped a little higher than the rest of her. Anishai just smiled at her, showed the Elf an apple in her other hand, and started peeling the skin.

Aerie's heart settled. She tried to sit more upright. Being scared didn't mean the Elf was a coward, and the Elf was determined to prove it.

"That… that wasn't nice," the blonde said, trying hard to keep eye contact with Anishai.

"No, it wasn't, was it?" The assassin said, crunching down on her meal. "Don't worry, little one; I'm not going to hurt you. At least not yet. At the moment, I rather like you. Of course, that could change if you keep looking at me like that..."

Imoen did a couple of somersaults, rolled off the end of the table, landing on her feet with her arms raised triumphantly to a round of applause. She decided, that was the finale of her act. Even if she had the energy, there wasn't much she could do to top that in this relatively small space, at least not without taking her clothes off and unfortunately for the male audience that just wasn't something she was interested in doing. Not even if they gave her cinnamon cookies, which were her favourite treat.

"What's the deal with her?" One of the men nodded to the corner where the Elf was sitting, now accompanied by Anishai.

"Aerie?" Imoen asked as if she didn't know.

"Yeah. Why's she not join in?"

Another young woman stood next to them. "She's a bit boring, isn't she?"

Imoen looked crossly at them. Okay, obviously, Aerie would rather read books than perform table gymnastics. She clearly wasn't a party animal… but to call her boring because just wasn't fair. She was just interested in other things.

"Aerie's great!" The redhead said loudly, still feeling a bit of a buzz from all her exertions. The Elf heard her, and looked up. The other rogues seemed unconvinced. "Hey, I know! You should her magic tricks. Hey, Aerie!" She called. The Elf slid around Anishai and stood up on the other side of the table. "Show everyone those tricks you showed me."

The blonde's head tilted, and she looked at Imoen oddly. "I… I-I can't," she said, shaking her head a little.

"Sure you can," Imoen tried to encourage her, "just like you did it this morning… c'mon!"

Aerie started to look around the room, the people, all starting to close around her, eyes watching her expectantly… her heart rate visibly quickened. Imoen was holding out her hand encouragingly, but Aerie started to step back, away from her…

"N-no, Imoen… please," she said more pleadingly, shaking her head more vigorously.

"C'mon, Aerie… everyone wants to see you perform!"

"I -I'm sorry!" The Elf snapped tearfully, and ran out the door.

Imoen blinked a few times, utterly bewildered. Not mention, made to look kind of dumb now in front of half the Guild, who now shook their heads and went to other side of the room, whispering things like bufflehead (although not exactly like that). She oughta slap that girl silly… Instead, she took a deep breath, and turned to face Jaheira.

"Well, what's wrong with her now?" She asked sulkily. "I was only trying to involve her, make her less afraid of people. If she didn't want to do it, she could have just said so."

Jaheira sighed. "She did try to say," the druid pointed out, "you weren't listening."

"Well, okay… still, bit of an overreaction, wouldn't you say?"

"Perhaps, yes. Still, it always amazes me how such an astonishingly clever person as you can at times be so exceptionally stupid," the druid shook her head, walking away.

Imoen raised her hands in exasperation. So, she was supposed to just figure this out on her own, was she? Fine, then.

The redhead thought about it as she ascended two flights of staircases; it seemed reasonable to assume that Aerie had gone back to the room they'd been given. She still kind of wanted to slap the Elf. It was ridiculous. Sure, she knew Aerie was quiet and shy around most people, but Imoen was there… she would have helped. It was only a dumb cup and balls trick, anyway; she didn't have to say anything to anyone. But, she'd already invested too much of her time in Aerie to stay angry at her over something silly like this. She just wanted to understand it.

She thought about how Aerie had done the trick; pretty, standard stuff, until the second run through when she changed it slightly specifically to fool Imoen… just to fool her. That whole performance; it just been for Imoen, because the Elf was naïve enough to trust her and wanted to share something with her. More than that, putting Aerie in that position again where people were expecting her to 'perform'… she'd actually used the word 'perform'. She was starting to see just how stupid she really had been.

Imoen found Aerie in the corridor outside their room, the Elf leaning on her side against the wall, her little chest expanding and deflating slowly.

"Listen," the redhead approached her tentatively, "I'm… I'm sorry, okay? I guess all those people surrounding you freaked you out, huh? I didn't mean to make you feel like a… like a sideshow or anything. I just wanted you join in the fun we were having. That's all," Imoen sighed, "of course, y'know, you were kind of stupid as well. I'm not gonna take all the blame for this one. You know, I'm trying to learn how to be all responsible and be in control of my own destiny, but it turns out its pretty hard and you could help make it easier by not just suddenly rushing off like that and leaving me to have figure it all out on my own."

"I'm sorry," Aerie turned around bowing her head. "I-I don't know why I ran off like that. I know it was silly. I guess… I just panicked, a little. I-I'm not perfect either, you know."

"That's okay," Imoen grinned and gave her a small hug, "so, you wanna go back and join the others?"

"No… n-not just now."

"You wanna help me break in to that magically locked door over there?"

"Um… okay."

"Okay… let's break in."


	15. Ch 14: Every Good Boy Deserves Zombies

**Out Of The Shadows**

**Chapter Fourteen:**

**Every Good Boy Deserves Zombies**

This was the one door in the building Imoen hadn't been able to open, on the second storey where all the bedrooms were, at the back. It looked perfectly ordinary, apart from the fact that she could feel through her skin when she touched it the familiar hum and vibration of magic. When she examined it further, she realised there were two invisible runes keeping it shut tight; if you tried to disable one, it was quickly recharged by the other. That was why she needed Aerie's help; the only way through was to disable both locks at the same time. And with most of the guild downstairs enjoying the festivities (Yoshimo was supposed to be showing them all a card game he picked up on his journey west), the time might as well be now.

The redhead guided the Elf's hand, placing it flat against the wood just a bit beneath where the handle was. Imoen placed her own hand a bit above. "You ready?" She asked. The Elf gave an affirmative nod. "On three… one, two…"

"_Oscail_!" A pulse very briefly rippled through the air around both women and, as if there was ever any doubt, the door creaked and opened slightly. There was no time to celebrate; someone could be along any moment. Imoen had a small mirror on the end of a stick that she pushed through the small gap that had appeared, using it to confirm that the room beyond seemed empty, and then quickly ushered herself and Aerie inside, closing the door again after them.

"Well, this is a…" a study. Shelves and books, a very wide desk with an ink well and feathery quill lying on it, red carpet, paintings, a small harp sitting on a pedestal. All rather more lavish and decorative than the very austere furnishings in the rest of the guild, but still all rather nondescript. "A bit disappointing, really," Imoen finished her thought. She didn't know what she'd expected to find, but something more interesting than this. "There's gotta be something in here… maybe in the desk…"

Imoen plopped herself down in the red padded chair and started rifling through the drawers. Documents, accounts… Mae'Var was doing quite well for himself, it seemed. Better than could really be expected for a little guild like this. He'd invested in that new sparring room and training facilities and put quite a bit aside for some unimaginatively titled 'Project Z'; nothing else about that in here. But the income he was making from all the pickpocketing and burglary didn't add up; it wasn't enough to cover all the expenses. Not without all these 'charitable donations'… mysterious, but enough yet to bring to Bloodscalp. There had to be something more in here; you didn't going to the trouble of using magic to seal a room like this just to hide your accounts.

Aerie still wasn't really sure what it was they were looking for. She'd seen plenty of evidence of wrongdoing, but what was wrongdoing to The Shadow Thieves? In the stories she'd read, a man like Renal would just get an assassin to take care of Mae'Var if he wanted him out of the way, or kill the man himself. But apparently even Thieves had rules, codes. She supposed it made sense; if they all just went around stabbing each other every time they disagreed, there'd soon be none left. The universe could be a chaotic place, but it seemed life everywhere always sought order, whether it was conscious of it or not.

But in any case, it was clear she would have to leave Imoen to find… whatever it was. The Elf started browsing the shelves and the books; they were mostly encyclopaedias, historical texts, myths, legends… but as fascinating as all that was to her, she found herself drawn to the large painting in the middle of the wall. She hadn't seen too many of those in the circus. It was a bard, she thought, sat in a room a lot like this one, writing down the score to his latest melody. Aerie found it hard to keep up with the ever changing fashions in Amn; every time the Circus visited Athkatla the noble men and women had changed their look somehow, usually in ways she found needlessly extravagant and that made them look more like clowns than people. But she guessed the painting was about one hundred years old, since the bard was wearing one of those collars that made him look a duck who had swallowed a plate. Elves lived a long time and grew up slowly compared to Humans, but Aerie was young; one hundred years was almost twice her age. It was strange to her to think that the man in the painting was probably long dead. It was so life like, as if he was actually looking at her right now… well, not quite at her.

The blonde followed the Bard's eyes across the room, to the harp on the pedestal. Sometimes Avariel, when they had wings, were mistaken by Humans for Devas or Angels; some Avariel even tried to take advantage of this, accepting people's worship and jewellery and gold. Of course, such practices were widely frowned on by the rest of Avariel society and considered extremely immature. Not that there weren't some Avariel who played harps, of course. Aerie herself however had never learnt to play any instrument. There were times when she had wanted to, when she younger, but… she just had so much else going on then, with her drawing and painting and writing stories, arranging games and activities for the other children – oh yes, she'd been a bit of a leader back then – and of course, flying off to have her own 'adventures' on an almost daily basis. She just never had time for music.

Which was a shame, because this harp looked very familiar somehow… she looked back at the painting, and… yes. There, at the back, behind the notation… could it be the exact same harp?

"I-Imoen…" the Elf beckoned. The redhead hastily shut the drawers and came across, one eyebrow arched questioningly, while her other was crunched up and perplexed. Aerie pointed at the painting, and back at the harp. It took Imoen a moment longer than Aerie to put them together.

"Oh!" The redhead's face lit up. "Uh… don't suppose you know how to play, do you?" The Elf smiled, shaking her head. "Right… well, I did have a couple of lessons from Garrick… before I realised I wasn't going to be able to play any symphonies within a tenday, so I packed it in. Anyway… seems simple enough; single notes and all…"

Imoen plucked at a few strings. There was no doubt, Aerie thought as she felt each tone vibrate through her skin, that there was just something magical and relaxing about harp music. Although, perhaps not so much when Imoen was playing it. "Okay," the redhead announced, "that's C… I hope." She looked back at the notation in the painting. "Every Good Boy Deserves Fun, right? Okay, I've got this…" the redhead started to play. Perhaps a little slowly, but there was no doubt as to the tune…

E E F G G F E D C C D E E D D… Ode To Joy. Aerie knew that because they had used it in the Circus during some performances. It was a good tune; quite uplifting… at least, when it was being played by people who knew what they were doing. Quayle had told her once that its composer had been accused of planar plagiarism, whatever that meant. He always denied it, anyway.

In any case, after Imoen had played a few bars of it, they heard a 'clank', the grinding and the turning of gears, and the bookshelf next to the painting swung open, revealing another doorway.

"A musical key," Imoen grinned as she entered, Aerie close behind her. "Pretty neat. Whatever will they think of next?"

Aerie's lit up in the next room, even though it was slightly smaller than the first. But this… this was something she had read about in storybooks but had never dreamed she would actually see for real. Bubbling cauldrons, shelves stacked with jars… was that actually eye of newt? And tables covered in glass bottles and tubes and pipes rising above them, twisting around each other as red and green fluids boiled and distilled… it was a proper wizard's laboratory.

The Elf leant over, peering closely at an alchemical experiment. On the other side of the table Imoen sniggered at seeing the Elf's wide blue eyes magnified even wider by the glass. There was some brownish goo or slime in a jar at one end of table, connected by glass tube to another jar, and then another all in a row, all with a magical flame beneath them. Different things boiling off at different temperatures… maybe they were just trying to figure out what the slime was made of, or they just needed the ingredients inside for something else… there was a book filled with notes that Aerie started to thumb through… she had to pull her thumb away in a hurry…

"Don't play with that!" Aerie jumped back, just avoiding the book as it was slammed shut. Losing her wings was bad enough for an Avariel, but all tool using beings on Faerun really relied on thumbs more than anything else. The wizard, the one with the red robes and little dark beard now peering angrily at her, must have been invisible when they'd entered the lab…

The Elf swallowed her surprise, tried to straighten herself out and then bowed apologetically. "Um… s-sorry, sir."

"Edwin?" Imoen blinked, still surprised. "Edwin Odesseirron; is that you?"

The wizard slowly turned his head and glared disdainfully at the redhead, like he'd just trodden in some pooh. "Yes… I was wondering how long it would take you to find your way in here," he said with a nasal twang that seemed to cause Imoen a little pain around her ears. He started gliding away from them, his feet hidden beneath the red robes, muttering to himself. "(I would have preferred less scrupulous mercenaries to do my bidding, but this is what providence has provided me; I shall have to convince them that I am in the right, as I always am, of course…)"

"Who… who is he talking to?" A bemused Aerie asked. Imoen shrugged.

"So… Edwin… Ed… Eddy," the redhead addressed. "You still don't mind if I call you that, right?"

"Whatever you insist," the wizard sighed resignedly.

"So, Eddy-Baby… how'd you end up here?"

"My superiors in Thay were rather disappointed by my results in Baldur's Gate…after we failed to get through to Sarevok, I was supposed to deliver you to them. But you were so weak and pathetic and powerless it hardly seemed worthwhile."

"Er… yeah," the weakling Bhaalspawn counted to ten, "thanks."

"In any case, they insulted me by calling me incompetent… a slight they will all pay for in time. So rather than return to Thay, I travelled south to Amn, to where I knew there would be enough coin to pay for my services, which are of course always highly in demand. Met Mae'Var… why is that pointy eared brat giving me the evil eye?" Aerie was indeed glaring suspiciously at Edwin.

"Yeah, kid… its rude to stare like that. What's up with you?"

Never judge book by its cover; Aerie might not have looked like a confrontational type, and for the most part, she wasn't. But there were certain things which, for obvious reasons really, really irked her.

"Aren't Red Wizards involved in slavery?" She asked, keeping her eyes locked on Edwin.

"Slavery?" Edwin cocked his brow. "Why, yes, there is a little bit of that in Thay. Rest assured, however, that I do not approve of it. There is a natural hierarchy, of course; those who are born to lead, and those who are born to serve. It's in the blood, you see; you can't expect people who have spent generations working fields to run a nation. Dare say I would not be too good working a plough (although of course I would master it quicker than most, if by some horrific accident of fate I were forced to). People simply need to be educated enough so that they accept their place freely, without the need for whips and chains. (There; that should convince the tarsiiforme primate that I am really on the side of the angels…)"

"Um… okay," Aerie became lost in Edwin's words, as he often unwittingly did to people. She spoke out the side of her mouth to Imoen. "D-did he just call me a big eyed monkey?"

"Probably," the redhead shrugged. "Anyway, Eddy, you're lucky Jaheira or Minsc haven't seen ya," she sighed, "don't know I'm gonna break the news to them that you're here… probably gonna need to wear full plate armour when I do. Anyway, you say you've been waiting so you'd better tell us what you want."

It wasn't until much later that Imoen explained to Aerie all about Edwin; she'd already gathered that he was a Red Wizard from Thay of course, another place Aerie would have liked to visit, to view its supposedly truly grand cities and houses of knowledge and learning, were it not for the fact that those cities were built on the backs of slaves. He had apparently fought with Dynaheir, Minsc's witch, who had been despatched from neighbouring Rasheman to investigate the Iron Crisis. So, the warrior wasn't going to be pleased to see him. Jaheira had just never liked him either, and she tended to hold a grudge; it wouldn't have surprised if the druid didn't suspect him of some involvement in their capture. But Imoen didn't think so; certainly, Edwin was a treacherous scumbag who only ever looked out for himself, but he wasn't a terrific liar. Besides, he hadn't been there…

Aerie could only trust in Imoen and in the evidence of her own eyes. Unless he tried any evil acts that might result in her friends getting hurt, she would accept him as an ally. Besides, she guessed it was his work in the sparring room with all the quantum thingies… there was clearly a lot she could learn about magic from him, if he was willing to share at least a little... But back in the present:

"Come," Edwin was beckoning them over to a font in the corner of his laboratory, "I give you my word; you will be very interested in seeing this…"

A scrying pool. The water rippled, and then settled into an image of Mae'Var's basement. Imoen flinched when she saw the cages again… she could feel the cold bars pressing against her neck, and then Mae'Var standing there with his knives. She tensed… she knew it wasn't her in the cage, and it wasn't Irenicus, but even so she could feel her blood quickening… she heard Aerie gasp too. Of course, the Elf hadn't any good experiences of cages either. Imoen put a hand on her friend's shoulder, leaning on her a little bit. The Elf did likewise. Edwin had no idea what either of them had been through, and he did not care. He just kept trying to draw their attention to the pool.

Mae'Var was standing at the back, beyond the cages, next to a table, exactly as he had been when Imoen had first met him. Only now, there was a body on the table, lying naked with his chest cut open and blood dripping into a puddle on the floor… Mae'Var casually pushed a bucket under the dripping blood with his foot. Imoen felt Aerie tighten her grip around her; it was assuring to have someone nearby who felt the same way she did. She didn't know if Bloodscalp was really any better, but she hadn't seen him torture anybody. Mae'Var really needed to be taken down. She really needed to do it.

Another man entered the scene. It took a moment to register, but it was Zyntris, the one who had tried to start something with Aerie when they had first entered the guild. Mae'Var turned and greeted him… Imoen saw their mouths move.

"Can we hear what they're saying?" The redhead asked Edwin.

"We should be able to…" Edwin looked puzzled for a second, scrutinising the small arcane writing all around the fonts rim. He then hit the side of it with his palm a few times. "There you go (cheap second hand rubbish…)"

"What happened to Embarl?" Zyntris sniffed.

"Hmmm? Oh, yes… him," Mae'Var grinned and started to creep in a circle around the rogue. "He wanted to run away. Thought he might get the idea into his head to talk to others about me, so I decided to ask him some questions. He wasn't very forthcoming at first. Then he was. Then he went deathly quiet all of a sudden. Funny how that keeps happening here."

"Heh… Y-Yeh… yeah," the thief chuckled very nervously.

"Am I scaring you, Zyn?" Even through the pool, Imoen could see how much Zyntris was sweating as the Guildmaster circled him like a one eyed predator.

"No… no boss… course not."

"You know, I used to think fear kept people honest. But I see now that was wrong; I mean, you were lying just then, weren't you? Because you were afraid."

"No, boss!" The thief protested.

Mae'Var tutted. "See, how can I trust you Zyn when you just won't tell the truth? Now, I'll ask you again; do I scare you?"

"Well," Zyntris gulped, "a-a little boss, yeah."

"Why do I scare you?"

"Well," he gulped again, nodding towards the corpse.

The Guildmaster froze for a second, and then slowly widened his grin. "Doesn't inspire much confidence in a man, does it?"

"No boss," Zyn chuckled.

"Smells pretty bad too, huh?"

"Sure is boss… heh."

"But that's good; you dropped your bravado there and you were honest. It's all I ask from people Zyn, is that they be honest. Now, you want to tell me how you got that black eye and cut lip there?"

"Is nothing boss… just an accident."

Mae'var's smile instantly turned around. "See, now you're lying again Zyn. A little birdie tells me that you got into a fight with the newcomers. You started trying to bully one of them and ended falling flat on your arse. Is that about right, Zyn?"

"Just a… a little too much to drink, boss."

"See, what bothers me Zyn, apart from the fact you got beat up by a woman and a skinny girl, is it comes across like you're trying to be in charge here. That wouldn't be the case, would it Zyn?"

"No, boss," the thief looked up, trying hard to keep both his eyes on his boss's one eye. "L-like I said… just a little too much to drink."

"That right?" The guildmaster stared back, trying to find the truth in the man's soul. "Heh… I believe you," he said at last. Zyntris breathed, his arms dropping slightly as Mae'Var turned away from him. "Come here… I want to show you something. You got a knife?"

"Boss?" Zyntris looked wary, as well he should.

"Don't worry; I ain't gonna stab you with it. Just give me one of your knives."

"Er… sure… sure boss… here…"

"Oh… that's nice," Mae'Var grinned, gently turning over the blade in his hands. "Those your initials there on the pommel?"

"Yeah… it was a gift from an old mate of mine…"

"So you've had it a while?"

"Yeah… few years…"

"Perfect," Mae'Var stepped to very back of his charming cellar. There was a bench there, and on it a box… Imoen could tell the box had some sort of magical enchantment on it, but couldn't tell what. In any case, Mae'Var unlocked the box with a small key, and dropped in the knife. He then pulled a lever on the wall and a part of it fell away.

"Don't get what's going on, boss…"

"Like I said Zyn; I only asked you to be honest. But you weren't. You lied. They all lie. You really just can't trust anyone these days," as he spoke, a figure started to lurch out of the gloom into the dungeon. Gaunt, pale, dragging one leg along the ground, it's skin dropping off in places; it seemed to be only held together by the leather straps all around it. And another like it followed. "But you see, Zyn, I will have an army of thieves and assassins all doing my bidding. And you get to be the first to see it in action. Enjoy the privilege, for about the thirty seconds you have left."

"By Mask… i-is that you Lin?" Zyntris looked disgustedly at the creature, but backed away fearfully. The creature's head twisted, it's milky eyes coming to settle on the rogue. "L-Lin?"

The creature snarled, and started to run forward with surprising speed, others not far behind. The thief tried to reach another one of his knives, but it was too late. The creatures fell on him and with their hands and teeth they just… they tore him apart.

"That's enough," Imoen fell forward slightly, leaning on the font as Edwin dispelled the image. She could feel another headache coming on… "A-Aerie…" she gasped.

"Are you okay?" The Elf still had an arm over her. Imoen blinked, squinted, rubbed her forehead…

"Yeah," she said at last. "I think so. I just… zombies. I hate zombies."

"He's gone quite, quite mad," Edwin sighed.

"So why did you show us this, Edwin?"

"To make sure you were properly incentivised, my dear girl. He's insane and he needs to be stopped."

"Pretty damning testimony, coming from you."

"Indeed. It also stands to reason that Renal Bloodscalp must have sent you here; he and Mae'Var have really seen eye to eye. He requires proof to show his superiors in order to have Mae'Var removed, yes?"

"And… you would happen to have that proof, I suppose?"

"I know where it can be found. Mae'Var is being funded the Night Knives; a rather unpleasant group of misfits operating out of Westgate. I suppose with the Shadow Thieves seemingly occupied with this other new guild, now is the perfect time for them to try and make inroads into this city as well."

Imoen had heard of the Night Knives; by all accounts, they made the Shadow Thieves look like missionaries. "Do you know anything about this other guild?" She asked.

"Very little at present. Assassins. Seem to have appeared out of nowhere… but such concerns are beneath me. The proof you require is in a strongbox in Mae'Var's quarters," the wizard reached inside his robes, pulling out a small chain. "And I happen to have the key. You will find his quarters through the door on the opposite side of the cellar from where you first went in. Good luck."

"Wait… you… you're just giving this to me?" Imoen blinked, taking the key regardless. But she knew Edwin… "I don't get it; what's in it for you?"

"Is that not obvious? I want out of this dung heap."

"So why you don't you get the evidence and take it to Bloodscalp yourself?"

"Do I look like a thief to you? Of course there will be a trap or two… but I'm sure nothing someone with your skills can't handle."

"Didn't you swear once to obey me?"

"Did I? Well, verbal contracts, you see; only worth the paper they're written on. Not like the ones we all signed with Mae'Var. Pity you didn't read the fine print on those, since they make it impossible for anyone in this guild to raise a fist against him. Utterly fool proof, I'm afraid, even to your feeble attempts at humour, Miss Creant. They were designed by a genius, after all…"

"Wait… you're saying they have a geas on them?" Imoen blinked; she really did need to be more careful what she signed. "But… I-I didn't sense any magic on them…"

"Did you not hear what I just said?"

"But… why would you do that? It's not like you to be that careless."

"Originally they were to protect myself, naturally…"

"Naturally…"

"Regrettably, Mae'Var found out and changed them. I underestimated him; for a simian, he's quite bright. Mad, but bright. He made especially sure that I signed it; can you imagine someone being that paranoid?"

"You've not much self-awareness, have you Edwin?"

"Hm… what?"

"Never mind. So, let me get this straight; you're saying if I sneak down there, and he catches me, I'll be completely and utterly defenceless, right?"

"Right," Edwin leaned forward, patting her on the head. "Just don't be caught. Now, should you require any more encouragement, perhaps your little friend there will oblige you. Yes? No? In any case, I would prefer getting this done sooner rather than later."

"Fine," Imoen huffed, but she supposed she had no choice. If she could get the evidence, get it to Renal, he'd be able to send his own assassins or whatever to take care of Mae'Var. Jaheira would be disappointed; unfortunately, we all have to learn to live with disappointment sometimes. "Stay here, Aerie."

"But… y-you can't go down there alone," the Elf protested.

Imoen smiled warmly, putting a hand on her arm. "You know anything about picking locks, or disarming traps?" The blonde sagged, lowering her head. "Didn't think so. And you'll just be helpless too if you're caught. I know you want to help… from here, you can keep an eye on me. And him. And if something goes wrong, well, you just get the others and get out of here as quick as you can, got it?" The Elf nodded, sadly but resignedly. "Don't worry, kid. I'm really good at this," the redhead winked, and then left.

Aerie remained standing with her head low for another moment. There had to be something she could to help. Perhaps not this instant, but… she noticed Edwin had several spellbooks, and piles of scrolls.

"Um… e-excuse me, sir?" She said hesitantly; the wizard was already back at the font, with Imoen in his sights.

"Yes? Why do you bother me?" He asked, trying to concentrate. As well as Imoen, he was also keeping a careful on Mae'Var.

"W-would you mind if I looked through your scrolls?"

"Do as you please… there is nothing there I have not fully mastered, anyway."

"Thank you, sir," she curtseyed, even though he wasn't looking at her. She started to rifle through the various parchments… there seemed to be every type of spell she could think of here, but she wanted one in particular. Yes… this was it… this could come in very handy…

Imoen's progress was slow. The hardest part was getting into the cellar without being seen, since there tended to be a lot of people milling about the recreation area in front of the door. She had to wait a long time for someone else to open it, quickly cast invisibility on herself and follow as quickly and as closely as she could. Fortunately the chatter from those milling about, and there were still a few stragglers from the little party they'd had earlier, helped to cover any noise she made. But at least once she was down there, it was very easy to run across to Mae'Var's room.

Picking locks was actually much harder when you couldn't see where your hands were, but she had practiced and soon the door creaked open. It seemed horribly loud to her, but she heard no comment from the other side of the cages where Mae'Var seemed practically glued to his work. She was in.

She guessed Edwin was responsible for decorating upstairs, since Mae'Var's room was just as austere as the rest of the Guild. Few comforts. Well, there was a mirror and a small table on which he presumably groomed himself sometimes. Actually, that could be useful… and now for the safe…

* * *

"Seems to be going well," Edwin commented. "Just getting in there at all is in itself an impressive feat for such a monkey as her."

"Right," Aerie had joined him now, praying for Imoen to get out quickly. She peered into the water, keeping an eye on everything there… but her eyelids peeled back when she noticed suddenly what wasn't there. "Edwin… w-where's Mae'Var?" She asked, her voice trembling with panic slightly.

"I… I do not," the panic seemed to infect the wizard somehow, as he started drawing his hand over the pool, moving the view all around the basement. "He was there a minute ago…"

"There!" Aerie cried, her heart skipping several beats. He was in the room… with Imoen. The redhead was leant over the safe, disarming the trap there… she hadn't noticed him. "We have to warn her!"

"We can't!" Edwin hissed, pounding his fist. "This thing only transmits one way… and once he has questioned her he will surely come for me… damn it all!"

* * *

There was… something. Imoen felt a presence, the faintest vibration being transmitted through the ground with each step. She waited until she judged it was within range, and then spun around, her fist raised high… instantly her vision blurred and searing pain shot up through her spine and into her skull. Edwin hadn't been lying about the geas.

Seconds later, she felt herself being lifted. A hand tugged at her hair, pulling her head back, exposing her throat. She felt the cold edge of a blade pressed against it.

"You want to tell me what you're doing in my room, girl?" Mae'Var's hot breath on her ear.

She'd been caught red handed, so there was really nothing else for it. "Oh… is this your room?" She snarked. "I thought it was Kelvin the Kobold King that lived here…"

"Why'd you have to do that, girl? Why do you have to lie?" He shook his regretfully, and then spun around, flinging her towards the dungeon door. "You think I didn't know that scrawny coward of a wizard would try to betray me as well? But don't worry; I'm going to make an honest person of you. You and your companions are going to be the newest recruits in my army."


	16. Ch 15: Waking The Dead

**Out Of The Shadows**

**Chapter Fifteen:**

**Waking The Dead**

In Aerie's world there were always a lot of questions. Sometimes about vegetables, sometimes not. For the first half life of her life she'd lived amongst the clouds amongst the intellectual caste of the avariel, given access to perhaps the best education on all Toril, at least outside of Candlekeep. And since the youngest age she could remember, she'd always been very curious, wanting to know how things worked, where did the sky end, and what was over the next peak. Yet she had always been aware, now more than ever, that no matter how many books she read or much she discovered, she actually knew very little. Perhaps it was that knowledge that always drove her. Her parents and all the older avariel had always warned her about the dangers of flying too far from home on her own. She hadn't listened; if anything, their warnings only made her more determined to find out what was there, and ultimately end up here.

Was there such a thing as fate? The idea that exactly when and how everything happens had already been decided before time began never really appealed to her. She was tired of being in a cage, other people deciding what happened to her. She wanted to choose her own path. Then there was destiny. As she had explained to Imoen before, this was subtly different from fate. It was more like there was potential for something to happen, but it was still up to people to actually make it happen, if at all. The gods guided you, deciding what destinies you could choose, and perhaps grew angry and punished you if you made a choice they didn't like… or at least it seemed like they did. Regardless of that, she usually felt like she had some choice in things, even her choices were limited in certain ways. Like whether or not she would have milk or tea, or both; but perhaps that was an illusion? Aerie suspected she might never know the answers to most these questions, but she often thought about how her life might have been had she never been caught and kept her wings. She'd have been given a second name by now, for a start, one relating to whatever profession she had chosen. Like if she'd written plays, she might be called Aerie Swiftquill, or Aerie Starwonder, if she had chosen astronomy or science like her father. She didn't know what name she would have if she had been given one in the circus; Aerie Expertexcrementremover? In any case, thinking about that inevitably led her back to the day she was captured, and if there was any way she could change it. Maybe if the air currents had taken her a different way, if the arrow had hit somewhere, but there was one inevitable conclusion; she had no choice. Not on that occasion, anyway. She had replayed the scene many times in her mind, and every time the instant she saw the boy running and scared there was only ever one course of action she would take. She was, she realised sadly, very predictable, at least to anyone who knew more than just the superficial details about her. And so when Imoen had told her she had to get out if things went wrong, the redhead must have known there was never any chance in any hell of that actually happening.

Aerie didn't know Edwin very well. She knew he was from Thay and that the Red Wizards had built their entire civilization on the backs of slaves. She also knew it was wrong to make assumptions based on where he was originally from or other such superficial details. Still, had she known him better, she would have found most of his actions were just as predictable as her own.

He was zipping and gliding back and forth and all around her, occasionally dumping things into her arms like scrolls and he flung a few bags over her head, muttering frantically to himself about what was needed and what he could leave behind. Aerie knew she had to somehow get to Imoen and help her get free, but she wasn't yet sure how she could do that. She had also been told to find Jaheira, Minsc and Yoshimo, but Edwin had told her it was already too late. Mae'Var's assassins had gassed or drugged all of them and were dragging them down to the cellar, and they would certainly be on their way up here next. They'd acted very fast, as if they had been waiting for Edwin's betrayal. In her moments of confusion as she tried to figure out what to do, Aerie found herself just going along with all the wizard's instructions, allowing him to use her like a mule to carry all his possessions. She hardly noticed.

"Come here!" He barked, pulling back a red curtain. She did so. "Excellent. Now there is not much time. Stand in the circle." And she did. She did look down and begin to examine the runes laid out in a ring around her, and realise she was stood in a teleportation circle. Under other circumstances, this would have excited her a great deal; she would have liked to examine it further, compare it to the writings and drawings in her books. But right now she had her mind elsewhere, while her body just went along, letting each thing happen like in a dream.

Edwin was stood next to her in the circle, speaking, but not to her. He was mumbling arcane words, activating the circle. It seemed to be taking a long time, and he was still going when the door exploded. Mae'Var must have had other mages working for him. Aerie heard smashing glass and felt a wave of hot her rush over her, causing her to shut her eyes. When she opened them again, the laboratory, the broken glass and the thieves were all gone. Wherever she was now, it was dark and chilly, and the air felt damp.

A flash startled and blinded her for a second, since her eyes had already begun to adjust to the low light. It was Edwin holding up a wand with a small flame on it, just like a candle really, but with the advantage of wax not burning his hands. She thought briefly how strange it was that such a small flame could drive back so much darkness, but then she realised that she should be more concerned about where she was and leaving the wonders of nature to another time.

It was a tunnel with curved brick walls. There was a step next to her, and below it the light from Edwin's candle reflected and danced across water. An underground river, perhaps?

"These canals were built two centuries ago," Edwin said as if reading her thoughts, "by diverting sections of the river to run beneath the city. Now they are mostly forgotten about, except by thieves who use to them to smuggle ill-gotten gains in and out of the city… might have been three centuries ago; I am afraid I never paid much attention to local history. It all pales in comparison to the glory of Thay."

Edwin led on down the tunnel, Aerie following without knowing why. Perhaps she hoped that Edwin had some plan to get Imoen and the others out. Perhaps she just didn't want to be left alone down here. For a creature whose ancestors had took to living among the clouds above the highest mountains millennia ago, it was fair to say that being underground felt very unnatural to her. And unsettling. Couldn't the ceiling fall down at any time? Was the tunnel getting smaller and smaller? The only thing keeping her from running and perhaps clawing her way to get out was the knowledge that Imoen still needed her help. Imoen, the nice girl who had helped her sneak laxatives into a bully's drink.

"Very talkative, aren't you?" The wizard smirked after a few moments of complete silence. "But that is good; so nice to have a lackey who doesn't interrupt all the time while I'm thinking. Indeed, I'd say that you and I are off to a most auspicious start." The tunnel was starting to lighten up ahead of them, and Edwin put out his candle. "Nothing's a clever thing to do and even cleverer thing to say, hmm?" He raised a hand suddenly as they reached a sharp turn in the wall and peered around. "Although, on this occasion you may well be right…"

He crept forward more and ducked behind some crates, Aerie just behind, and peeped over. Further down the canal was a barge, more of a raft, really, tied to the shore. There were a few men carrying boxes from it through an archway down a passage away from the water.

"More of Mae'Var's men," Edwin sneered, "this is where he gets his deliveries, all his payments from the Night Knives he uses to fund his little zombie army."

"W-what does he want with zombies?" Aerie asked.

"Assassins, my dear. Near indestructible assassins, with the added advantage that even when they're caught, they can't be made to say anything. Still, his control over them right now is very limited, as you saw. "

"The box…" Aerie remembered.

"It provides them with a scent, as it were. But it's far from perfect; clearly, he still requires an artefact that has come from the person he wishes destroyed. It will take him far longer to solve that limitation without my help, of course, but even a chimp given an infinite amount of time…" Edwin trailed off suddenly, and then started to mutter. "Have to get past. Get to the docks, board a ship… once I am far enough away perhaps then I can find a way to break this curse…"

"Wait," Aerie blinked, her dream starting to fade. "We… w-we're running away?" She looked down at herself, wondering why she was carrying all this garbage… well, some of it might be useful, but mostly it was just weighing her down and would make it more difficult to get to Imoen. She remembered what Imoen had done in Mae'Var's room; she must have figured it out already. Now Aerie had to do her part.

"I'm not hanging around to be gutted open by some low born cutthroat. I, the great Edwin Odesseirron? It would be far too inappropriate," he explained with a slight hissing. "Should really have put the other end of the teleport a little closer to the exit… but couldn't risk anyone finding it and realising what it was…"

The thieves had all gone, disappearing under the arch carrying various wares, and Edwin seized the opportunity to hurry them on. But Aerie didn't follow; she dropped the scrolls and lifted the straps up over her head, leaving it all on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Edwin demanded angrily.

"The passage leads back to that cellar, yes?" She asked, swallowing and trying to stay focused.

"Well, yes, I suppose…"

"T-then that is the way I have to go. Good bye, sir," she said, knowing by now that Edwin had no intention of helping any more. She wondered why he hadn't used this escape route a lot sooner. She supposed because he had lost control to Mae'Var, and he couldn't stand that. It was only now it seemed that Imoen had failed and the thieves had all turned on him that he had decided to retreat.

"Bah! I should known the chirpy chipmunk would have surrounded herself with other like minded imbeciles," the wizard huffed, leaning over his bags and scrolls. He was clearly most annoyed by having to carry them all himself. "Fine then; go ahead and die. Just remember it's your own fault."

"I-I promise, sir, I shant return to haunt you."

"No, but your corpse might," Edwin said, scratching the underside of his beard. Aerie had turned away from him then, but snapped her head back round when she heard some rustling. Bolts and arrows started to fly from further down the tunnel. The wizard gasped when something hit him; luckily for him it wasn't arrow. It was Aerie pushing him out of the way. His uttered exasperatedly as more bolts and arrows flew, but it was as if they were all caught by an invisible web and spun harmlessly to the ground. Edwin looked about to retaliate, but could see now there were just too many thieves crawling up the tunnel, accompanied by several mages, even for him. Apparently, Mae'Var had known about his escape plans. They were coming the other way too, leaving them with only one exit; through the arch, away from the canal. Now Edwin was going with her whether he wanted to or not.

They ran for it. The archway was over a heavy wooden door, which they slammed shut. Working together, they managed to slide a beam across it just as the thieves started slamming into the other side. Just to be extra safe, Edwin uttered another incantation, bonding the door magically to its frame.

"That should hold them back for a while," he sighed, relieved.

"Er, yes. Sir?" Aerie tugged on his sleeve.

"What is it now? Can you not see the great Edwin Odesseirron must now formulate a new… ah."

It was the three who had been outside earlier, collecting the boxes. Edwin began to cast, but they were so close he couldn't finish anything before being caught by that right hook and he slid back against the door, a most undignified amount of dribble spilling from his mouth. Aerie managed to slip under the fist flying at her and stumble away and to the side. She reached into the pouch on her belt, pulling out a small glass needle. She commanded it to grow, and then she was holding a sword.

"Give it up, girlie," one of them smiled. They could obviously see how tense she was, how her leg shook even as she stood with the blade held in front of her, trying to remain defiant. "We don't wanna hurt ya."

Aerie considered her options. She fought pretty well, when it was against Imoen, even though she had lost in the end. Against Jaheira, it had gone less well… these thieves were clearly a lot stronger than her, too. Probably more experienced. And there were three of them. But she couldn't be caught yet! Imoen was counting on her. Even if that wasn't the case, there was no way she would let anyone drag her into another one of those cages. Not without a fight. But she was so focused on the three of them, she didn't notice the fourth sneak up behind her. The first she knew of him was when he already had his strong arms wrapped around her face and body. She kicked and thrashed, but it was no use… the others started trying to pull the sword out of her hand, but she was holding onto it for life. She kept thinking about the cage, and did what she did the very first time someone had tried to put her in one. The man behind her screamed loudly as she bit into his flesh. Just as the first time however, she was thrown to the floor and they all started to punch and kick her while she tried to roll into a protective ball.

But now, they had become so focused on Aerie that they'd forgotten about Edwin. It was doubtful he was interested in saving the elf, only himself, but he realised his odds were better with her than with Mae'Var. Or maybe he was just infuriated about being punched in the face. Either way, he made the thieves realise they had seriously erred in counting him out so soon. A glittering orb struck one of them, shattering itself, and him, like he just turned to glass. Another one screamed as his clothes combusted and he fell to the floor with cracked and burnt skin. The others froze, wide eyed and helpless, too scared even to run.

There were others nearby who heard the commotion and came scampering down the dark corridor. Edwin turned his attention to them. In the meantime, Aerie stood up, praying to Baervar to guide her blade and give her strength, blood and tears mixed on her face. A volley of bright shining missiles struck one of the men who had attacked him, steam rising from the holes in his chest as he fell back. The other desperately drew his own blade and lunged at her. She parried the blow and stepped back, allowing his momentum to keep carrying him forward. He spun back, and lunged again, and she parried. They started moving around each other, prodding and looking for holes, like a dance. It was just like when she had fought the beasts in the circus tent. Her mind felt completely clear, focused entirely on here and now, all her worries washed away. Almost the same feeling she remembered from years ago when she flew and could see all the world as not fractured, but as one terrific being. It was exhilarating. She almost didn't want it to end.

But end it did, with a whimper. The man fell on her again, and his eyes went wide with shock. Aerie found herself drawn into them as he slumped and slid off her blade. Why was he looking at her? Surprised and scared. What… what had she done? He wasn't a beast! She remained transfixed by his eyes, wide and bright still. His hand went up and trembled around his neck… he kept looking at her, like he was pleading for something, What could she do?

"I-I'm sorry," she shook her head, "I… I don't understand…" and it was too late to. His eyes kept staring, long after he had drawn his last breath.

It was another moment later before she thought to look around his neck. There was chain there. A locket, tucked under his clothes. Aerie recognised the man, of course. She wondered who the woman was. Could have been a sister, but wife or lover seemed most likely; he had just wanted to see her. Either they were already married, or they were going to be. They might have settled somewhere, had children, raised them, did their best to keep them from making any of the mistakes they had made until those children left, got married, settled down, and so on down the years… but it had only taken her a second to take all that future away.

She had forgotten about Edwin and the other thieves who had come running down the corridor. Caught in such a narrow space, they wouldn't have stood a chance against his fireballs anyway. He just had a few to finish up, then he came and stood next to her.

"Dare day you've had some sort of epiphany about something," he sighed, "whatever it is, I suggest waiting until we have gotten me out of here…er, us out of here… before you linger any longer."

"I…I killed him," Aerie, not looking up, "this man… h-he wasn't a beast, but I killed him…"

"Yes," Edwin patted her on the shoulder, "well done. You killed him, too," he should, nodding to the one with all the holes in his chest, "so double well done. Of course, I killed several more, but we're not keeping score… are we?"

"He… he had a wife," Aerie said tearfully, "o-or a lover…"

"Or maybe they were one and the same person. I agree, it seems unlikely, but imagine!"

"How can you be so… so callous!" Aerie snapped angrily. "Don't you realise how important it is? G-getting to live and be free to make choices… n-no one should ever be able to take that away from anyone."

"Well, in answer to your first question, it's easy. In answer to the rest, he made a choice. He chose to be on the wrong side, and he died for his choice."

"But, m-maybe he didn't have a choice. Maybe this all happened by accident, or maybe it was the only way he could afford the things he wanted for her," Aerie had seen the slums. She could imagine people living in such a place would do anything to make their and their families lives better, even if that meant joining a man like Mae'Var.

"Now you are just not making sense. And what do you want to do? Find his wife, or lover, or whatever she is, say 'hello, I'm the girl who murdered your husband. Sorry about that'," Edwin shrugged. "I really don't know why we are wasting time here. What is done is done. No need to end up the same way. Besides, didn't you think when you joined the red haired brats little troupe that you might end up fighting, killing?"

"I-I did, but…" Aerie didn't understand all her feelings either. This was the first time she had seen death. Slaves died often, often left to rot in their cages. There had been many corpses in the circus after Kalah, including Kalah himself, and she had helped to kill him. She guessed this was the first time she been so close to someone who had died by her hand. "I didn't know it would be like this…"

"Rest assured that were it you lying on the ground, I doubt he would have felt so emotional about it."

"Well, no, b-but… that doesn't mean he's right," although Edwin did have a point, she was loathe to admit. It was going to be one of them on the ground, and she wanted to live as much as anyone else did. And it was foolish to stay here much longer… and still she had to help Imoen.

"Doesn't it? Whoever survives decides what's right, really."

"You… you're saying we have a duty to survive?" Maybe if he'd lived he would have murdered others for Mae'Var without ever questioning it… but she couldn't know that.

"Don't we all?"

"No," she shook her head. That wasn't going to do it; she couldn't kill again with that as her motivation. It seemed to require seeing other lives as less important than hers, and she didn't believe that at all. There was something else, however, that might get her to fight. "But… I-I do have a duty to others. To Imoen. I can't let her down, or let her die," she leant over, and gently closed the man's eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Maybe you had a lover you wanted to protect and provide for, but I have people I want to protect as well. I wish there could have been another way… so, I'm sorry."

"Good, so… now we can get on with escaping?"

Aerie nodded, and stood and started to set off along the darkened corridor that she assumed led back to the cellar where Mae'Var and Imoen would be.

"Of course," Edwin commented, "it is also possible that she is someone who died a very long ago…"

"Please shut up, sir."

"As I understood it," Yoshimo said, "the plan was to work our way up and gain Mae'Var's trust, yes?"

"Yeah," Imoen rolled the word off her tongue, sensing where this was going. "But, something came up and I had to improvise…"

The Kara-Turran pointedly kicked the cage door. "Good job," he said.

"Okay, it didn'texactly go like I'd hoped," the redhead shrugged, "but, Aerie and Edwin are still out there, at least."

"If I had known that self-serving scum sucker were here, I would have split his skull in two," Jaheira rasped. "Bah! If he had any sense, he is long gone. And you should have known better than to believe any word he says."

"He's not a liar, Jae," Imoen sighed, "he doesn't have the imagination for it."

"Even so, you cannot believe he has any intention of coming back to rescue us?"

"No," of course she didn't. But Imoen still clung to some hope. "There's still Aerie…"

"A mere child!" The druid paced. "Inexperienced, naïve… almost as bad as you. The wizard has most likely taken her too, as a servant. You should never have left them alone."

"You weren't there, Jae. At the circus, I mean, when all those crazy things started happening. She went straight in to find her Uncle; I don't think anything would have stopped her. She'll try to find us too… she won't have gone anywhere. And I've got a plan."

"A plan?" Jaheira raised a brow doubtfully.

"Of course! Sure, I'm not all sure how it's all going to come together yet, but I definitely have one. Kind of," all she really had to hope was that Aerie didn't find them too soon. Hopefully she would be cautious this time, and she had Edwin to slow her down.

"In other words, you are just making this plan up as you go along?"

"Those are the best plans. Because they can't find out and make their own counter-plan. And I'm really good at making things up as I go along."

"Now I just feel too depressed to strangle you."

"Minsc has full confidence in little Imoen!" The bald warrior declared. Jaheira turned and looked at him curiously.

"Why?" She asked. "What has she ever done to inspire confidence?"

Minsc tilted his head and looked about himself, confused. "Well, Minsc…er, Boo?" The hamster seemed to shrug. "We… just do," he seemed satisfied with that answer, even if Jaheira wasn't.

"It's just my charisma," the redhead grinned, "people love me and want to believe in me. People see me and think, 'she can't be real, can she?' But I assure you I am."

"It… is hard to believe," Jaheira rolled her eyes.

"Awww… just admit, Jae. You want to hug me too…"

"Try it, and I will tear your arm off and make you swallow it."

"You'll come round," Imoen said, stepping back. From anyone else, she would have known that was an empty, and quite silly, threat. From Jaheira, she believed somehow that she would actually do it. "They always do."

"You seem to be acting more like your old rambunctious self, at least," the druid noted, not entirely with disdain.

"Am I?" Imoen wondered. She felt different, somehow. Darker, maybe. Maybe just older, and that was the most scary thought. She felt like she wasn't enjoying being 'rambunctious' quite as much as she used to, maybe because she was more aware of the dire consequences her actions could have, even if unintended. Would there come a time when she stopped having fun and became just like every other adult? No; that would never happen. She was still Imoen.

"The girl's a totally wet blanket, from what I hear," Mae'Var swept past the cages, flanked by two lieutenants. Imoen wondered were Anishai was, if she was involved in all this… that woman was creepy, without a doubt. "Nothing to worry about. It's Edwin that concerns me. He's made me vexed. I don't care what happens to the elf, but I want him alive."

"Problems?" Imoen asked with her head pressed between the bars.

"Oh, I've never got any problems," he grinned and stepped toward her. "Challenges, maybe, but never any problems."

She had to make him mad at her; that was the only way she was getting out of this cage. She needed to be on the other side of these bars for her plan to work, whatever that plan was. She was sure she would figure it out when she got there. Childish insults alone wouldn't work; this was his 'turf' and he was completely in control here. She didn't matter to him. Someone else did though… she might have to lie a bit.

"Hm… like Renal being a much bigger man than you?" She said. "Doubt that's a challenge you'll ever be up to, I'm afraid."

"And you would know, would you?" He started eyeing her cravenly. "You do seem like his type… weak and girlie."

"Can't be too weak. You need a really strong abdomen to not break in two with the things he does…"

"Let me tell you about Renal Bloodscalp," Mae'Var snorted. "Years ago, we were both young rogues that got sent on a job. Simple, we thought; just had to break open a few crates in this old warehouse, grab some stuff and run. Turned out, there were more than just statues in those creatures. Soon as we split one open these little demon things appeared… must have been some magic protection. They fell on me first; knives didn't do nothing. But I thought it was okay; my ol'buddy will get me out. We were sworn brothers, after all. Pledged we'd stick with each other through thick and thin. But where was he? Turned out he'd ran… filthy bastard just ran and left me for dead! But I lived. Lost my eye, but I lived. But do you know what really, really, irked me about the whole thing? Rather than punish him for being a coward, he got promoted for getting the damn statue."

Imoen tilted her head, wondering if he wanted her to feel sorry for him or not. Pretty hard to do when he was holding her prisoner and a squad of zombies hidden behind a mechanical door. Besides, it was only one side of the story she'd heard so far. Whatever the truth, it was obvious Mae'Var had gone completely over the edge and had to be stopped before he could do any more harm.

"You think it should have been you?" She asked.

"Damn right!" He screamed, slamming his palm against the cage.

"You let yourself get taken down by a few little demons? That's pathetic. You're obviously not half the man he is."

"You want to find out?"

"You'd be wasting your time. Once you've ridden a racehorse, you just can't settle for a donkey again."

"Oh, you will be mine. Oh yes. Soon, I'll have everything that lying coward stole from me, and guess what? You'll be there to see it, and to obey my every command. Well, you might not feel like quite yourself anymore," he touched the bars with a dark wand. A sudden jolt and sparks made the cage's occupants jump back while he unlocked the door and slid it open. "Grab her!" He instructed his lieutenants. As Imoen made a show of appearing to resist, she shook her head to the others; they would have rushed and tried to intervene, but were all under the same geas and couldn't harm Mae'Var.

They dragged her back into cellar, towards the table he had experimented upon. And the knives next to it… she couldn't bring herself to look at them. But she had to make a show, still.

"Oh, what? You're going to torture me?" She said, raising the pitch of her voice. "I'm so scared…"

"No, not exactly," he said, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her head back while the lieutenants held her arms. "Your pain won't last very long at all," he held up a knife, and roughly sliced off a lock of her hair.

"Damn. I'm going to have to restyle it again."

"No, you won't," Mae'Var walked slowly away. "You might I'm setting you free, in a way. Free from your vanity and your lies." He opened the box, and dropped the hair in. Imoen what would happen if he pulled the lever on the wall…

"Yeah, well, cyclops" she started to say anything to buy a bit more time, it seemed. "You're forgetting one thing, aintcha? You son of a ogre and a cow. And that's… that's that Edwin and Aerie are still out there, and they'll find a way to break the contract and they'll come for you. Any time now they'll come for you and your little box and you will rue this day. That's right. I said rue… whatcha you gonna do about it, stinky pants?"

"You really want those to be your last words?" Mae'Var grinned, stepping back towards her confidently.

"It pretty much sums me up."

He stared hard at her, while she in turn tried to hold his gaze. But without warning he spun around, throwing a knife across the room. There was a door on the other side from the mechanical one, now opened. Aerie gasped, looked in surprise at the knife sticking out of her chest, and then rolled her head back and fell to the ground.

"Aerie!" Imoen screamed wildly. The men next to her were just as surprised by the turn of events, loosening their grip enough that she could kick free and dash across the room to where her friend had fallen. "Aerie, you… you bufflehead…" the redhead wept, kneeling beside her. "I told you to get away…"

"Edwin!" Mae'Var roared, ignoring the prone girls for the time being.

"Now, this is not how it looks," Edwin tried to explain, treading around the girls and bending his back submissively. "I… I brought her to you!" He insisted, pointing at Aerie.

"Edwin, you gangrenous goblin!" Imoen hissed tearfully.

"You see, they broke into my chamber," the wizard said, ignoring her. "Tried to make me help them, but I knew I could lead them into a trap… lead them to you."

"Why should he trust you, Edwin?" the redhead snapped. "You change sides more easily than the chosen of Mystra."

"You really think I would throw in my lot with you?" He snapped back. "You snot nosed little minx and harlot? Poor, deluded fool. Clearly, it is Mae'Var who has always held the stronger hand, and I always intend to be on the winning side."

Mae'Var started to walk forward. "I know you do, Edwin," he said, taking Edwin's collar and starting to twist it in his wrist, choking the wizard who could only groan helplessly. "Trouble is, I've got not use for a lying traitor," the thief suddenly headbutted him, holding the wizard up so he could keep doing it, "you-venomous-old-snake." He finally let go, and let Edwin spiral backwards to the floor. The thief then turned on Imoen, grabbing the redhead's hair and flinging her back away from Aerie. Imoen's scalp was burning, but she wasted no time and went straight for Edwin, punching, kicking, scratching, screaming… it took Mae'Var and both his lieutenants to pull her off.

"You'll get your chance, girl," the guildmaster said, "soon, actually. But first," he started heading toward the lever, "you're invited to lunch."

Well, that distraction had been enough. Looked like it was done. Imoen straigtened up, tidying her hair.

"Tell you what, Mae'Var," she said, "'cos I'm such a nice gal, I'll give you one last chance to surrender. You can turn yourself into guards; prison's probably a lot better than what the Shadow Thieves will do to you."

"Turn myself in?" He laughed. "Tell you what; make me laugh like that again, and I might let you live."

Imoen stared at him for several seconds. Not a single blink or flicker of her eyes. "I'm serious," she said.

"Sure you are," he shook his head and started to pull the lever, "goodbye, whoever you were."

"Yeah," Imoen smiled wickedly, "goodbye, Mae'Var."

As before, the zombies started to groan and shuffle their way into the room and then paused, examining Imoen, it seemed. She smiled and winked at them.

"What are you waiting for!" Mae'Var growled, "Get her!" Suddenly, their necks snapped toward the sound of the voice, and they emitted a feral snarl. "What… what are you doing?" Mae'Var's eye widened as he realised in horror that, somehow, he had become the target.

"Guess the dead are free from your contract, huh?" Imoen said. The zombies sprinted and jumped, falling on Mae'Var, gnashing, snarling, ripping off chunks of flesh… "Ohh… that's… that's nasty."

She ducked, just a magic orb flew over her head, disintegrating one of the lieutenants behind her. It had come from Aerie who, clearly, was not as mortally wounded as Mae'Var had been led to believe. The other lieutenant backed away, and was grabbed by Minsc who held him tight against the bars of the cage, while Yoshimo relieved him of his keys. Once he had unlocked the door and they were all out, Jaheira punched the man a few times. She didn't have to, she just felt like doing it.

"Best get upstairs," Imoen said, "no telling what the zombies will do now that they've turned on their master."

Of course, it was never that simple. More of Mae'Var's men heard the commotion and came running down, and the group had to fight their way through, staying ahead of the zombies who now that they'd finished with the guildmaster were randomly attacking others in the room. Edwin used his magic to help them clear a path… Imoen had almost forgotten about him. It didn't matter; he was helping them now, even if it was just to save his own skin again. She would deal with him later, maybe, or she wouldn't bother. He was a coward and therefore nothing to her.

Eventually, they all made it to the top of the stairs and slammed shut and bolted the cellar door behind them. There were groans and snarls and the odd scream as the remaining thieves trapped inside fought the zombies.

"Unnatural abominations," Jaheira said, "we shall have to go back and clean up the mess down there."

"Right," Imoen said, panting and with her hands on her knees. "Just… just let me catch my breath, first."

"Plus," Aerie was in a similar position to Imoen, "w-we still have to get those documents for Renal, don't we?"

"We do," Imoen nodded. Now Mae'Var was dead, it might look to people like Renal had him assassinated if he didn't have those documents.

"But why did they attack him?" Jaheira asked.

"Oh… he could only tell them who to kill using that magic box at the back of the cellar," Imoen explained, "he needed a piece of hair or a dagger or anything belonging to the person he wanted to put inside. Well, when I was in Mae'Var's room earlier it was easy to pick up some stuff and hide it on myself. Like a comb with his hair on it. And then Aerie, who you can see isn't really all that dead…"

"Hello!" Aerie grinned and waved to the party.

"Yes, hello."

"You cast your divine healing magic within an arcane contingency," Edwin nodded, "so when the knife struck you were instantly healed. Quite impressive for a tarsiiforme, I suppose."

"Right," Imoen nodded. The healing spell was still working when she'd pulled the knife out. Still quite a risk, though, even if it was unlikely a single knife could have killed her instantly. She would have to urge Aerie not to do that again, although she suspected it might be hard getting her to listen. "Even I wasn't sure about that until she winked at me. Anyway, then all I had to do was slip her the comb while she was playing dead, then provide a distraction so she could get up and swap my hair with Mae'Var's. Easy peasy lemon squeezy."

"It all came together, somehow," Jaheira sighed, "now, I just have to kill Edwin, and we can leave here…"

"Kill… kill me?" The wizard backed away as she approached, even while his voice tried to stay defiant. "I knew about the entire plan! Did you not see me in there, providing a distraction, hm? Why, I was the lynchpin to the entire scheme! They would never have pulled it off without me!"

"Sure, Eddy," Imoen rolled her eyes. Nevertheless, she stepped between the wizard and the druid. "C'mon Jae… he's not worth it."

"A-hem," a cough distracted the group, sparing Edwin for a moment at least. Anishai stood across from them. Imoen stared back at the dark haired woman, hand on the dagger she had picked up during their flight from the cellar, just in case. "I take it from all those delightful screams down there, and the fact you are still alive even though he made it clear to the guild you were not to be, something untoward has happened to Mae'Var?"

"Um… yeah," Imoen nodded. "He's dead."

"I see," Anishai nodded, then poured herself a drink.

"Um… that's… that's okay then, is it?"

"Yup, that's fine."

"You're not going to try to take revenge, or anything?"

"Nope."

"Oh… okay," Imoen relaxed her grip a little. "Good."

"Should probably tell Renal, though. It'll be the third… no, fourth change in management since I've been here. I never cared much for Mae'Var's style anyway."

"Yeah, we will. Just got to clean up a bit first."

"Oh, Edwin, dear?"

"What, yes?" The wizard couldn't take his eyes off Jaheira.

"About that other business we discussed… you'll find the property is vacant now."

"Really?" Edwin looked mildly surprised. "I was certain he would kill you…"

"In that case, glad to disappoint."

"Me too," Edwin grinned, then turned to the others, "I must bid you farewell for now, primates. Mae'Var is no longer a threat to my supremacy, but I still have much to do. Have to decorate my new home, to begin. (Among other things that are far beyond the scope and imagination of these hapless monkeys.)"

Aerie whispered to Imoen. "He… h-he does know we can hear when he talks to himself like that, doesn't he?" The redhead.

"Well then, I would say it has been nice seeing you all again. But, that would be a terrible lie, now, wouldn't it? Nevertheless, if you are very lucky, I may use you again sometime."

"Great," Imoen said through a false smile. "Think I'd throw myself off a cliff if I had that kind of luck too often."

Edwin bowed and left. Imoen gathered from the conversation that he might not be going too far. Not out of the city, anyway. Unfortunately. Still, Edwin didn't go out much so it was unlikely she would bump into him in the street at least. Now all that was left was for them to clean up like they'd said. Well, there was one other thing…

"Hey, Anishai," the redhead called across the room.

"Hello, yes?" The assassin looked up.

"Tell that cook he's fired."


	17. Ch 16: Just Another Day

**Out Of The Shadows**

**Chapter Sixteen:**

**Just Another Day**

"Mae'Var said that you'd abandoned him."

Renal lent back behind his desk, some white woollen thing draped over his finger, spinning round. "I am sure he said a lot of things," he said at last. Imoen, who had to remain standing between two of Bloodscalp's humongous 'nephews', was clearly not impressed.

"Of course," he sighed, "you want to know if you can trust me, yes? It's understandable, since we will be seeing much more of each other from now. Maybe even working together."

"Maybe," the redhead nodded.

"A bit naïve, isn't it? I mean, I am a thief. I cheat, I lie, I steal. You don't really believe any of that nonsense about honour amongst us, do you?"

"I think, that Renal Bloodscalp is a fine, well respected, upstanding member of this community who would have no reason to hide anything from little ol'me."

"Then you really are naïve. 'Ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies', that's always been our unofficial catchphrase round 'ere. But, since you do ask, and since I do have nothing to hide in this instance, what he told you was true."

Imoen knew there had to be something more. "And?"

"And, in my own defence, I was young and rather inexperienced back then. When I saw him go down, I thought he was done for. With hindsight, I suppose I should have remembered what a tenacious bastard he always was back then. But, like I said, young and I'm afraid I have to admit somewhat panicking at the time."

"But he thought you'd just thrown him to the wolves, so you could get away. And that's why he hated you ever since."

"Yes. He may have been slightly bitter about me stealing his girlfriend as well. Pity I didn't get to kill him myself, but nevertheless you have upheld your end of our little bargain so you can move into his old guildhall. It'll be a nice little hang out for you and your gang, I'm sure."

"Do… do I have to keep Anishai?"

"Anishai? Why, don't you like her?"

"It's just," Imoen was drawing little circles in her hand, trying to think of a delicate way to put this… then she gave up. "I just can't think of any nice way to put it; she creeps everyone out. She's just… she's creepy. If spiders have a creepiness factor of one, then she's about nine hundred thousand."

"So… you're telling me she's creepy?"

"Yeah… she's a creeping creepy creep."

"I know," Renal nodded and smiled understandingly. "And, yes. You have to keep her. Otherwise though, I've no further assignments for you right now, so just do whatever you like with the place. If it were up to me, I would get lots of these," he said, holding up the knitted woollen thing. "Timmy, what is they're calling these things?"

"Doilies, boss," one of the nephews answered.

"Doily… what wonderful names people think of. You see, Imoen," he beckoned her close with his finger, and started to whisper conspiratorially. "The genius of them is, not only do they make a room look even more fabulous, they stop your furniture from being scratched by other ornaments. And as if that were not amazing enough, some of them can also be fashioned into rather fetching bonnets."

"Um… right," Imoen blinked, "I'll, er… bear it in mind…"

"Yes. Yes you will. And you will go downstairs right now to talk to one of my boys. We just a got a great big wagon load of the things, so they'll set you up. Since I know you haven't much money right, I'll let you pay in instalments."

"Oh. That's nice of you."

"Isn't it just? I'm touched by my own generosity sometimes. And so, I'll be in touch when I have other jobs for you… no doubt it will all go some way to setting up a meeting with the shadow master himself. So, run along."

* * *

"You!" A gruff voice barked down the alley. "Assassin…"

Anishai rubbed around her eye sockets wearily. This had become an annual event in her life, although it seemed to be happening more now. Bounty hunters. Their employer was with them too, right at the back of the alley. Pretty young woman; a noble or merchant's daughter, most likely.

The assassin had slipped a few times when she was young. Sparing the children. Now they were all grown up and had spent their whole lives thinking about nothing but revenge. Their whole, short lives.

"Do you remember me," the pretty one said, her voice trembling under the weight of all her hatred. "You left me crying over my father's body, while the house burned around us. Do you remember?"

The assassin shrugged. "Nope."

"Don't lie to me, bitch! I've spent years tracking you down."

"I'm sure you have. I'm sure it all seems very important to you, your father dying, you being left to pick up the shattered pieces of your life and to avenge him, etcetera. But I've killed many fathers. To me, it was just another day, another job. I am afraid there will be no fearful recognition as you stand triumphant over my broken body. Sorry about that, my dear."

"K-kill her!" The young woman barked.

The assassin sighed as a burly man came at her with a sword. Thrust, duck, slash… it had all become such a chore. Arteries severed. He would be dead in two minutes, unless a healer could get to him first, but they wouldn't. She took the crossbow from his back as he writhed and loaded it with her practiced efficiency. They should have chosen their battleground more wisely; the alley meant they could only come at her one or two at a time.

Next one charged with a spear. Aimed bolt at his upper lip. Death was… pretty much instant. Next one came; spear through eye. Again, instant. That just left the woman.

She screamed and fought. Not bad; she'd obviously had some lessons and acquired some skills. But she'd obviously never used them in a real battle before. Couple of well aimed blows and the pain and trauma almost completely incapacitated her. The assassins hands closed around the young woman's neck, squeezing more and more tightly with every breath. Death took about ninety seconds, in which time her expression changed from hatred, to desperation and then fear, and finally sorrow at her own miserable failure. All a bit of a waste, really.

Not much Anishai could do about the corpses. It would likely just be written off as more gang nonsense. She would have preferred dumping them in the river, letting them be washed away. But it was the middle of the day and too many people would notice. Besides, she had another job to do.

She returned to the guild.

The assassin found Aerie stood up on the roof. Alone. Just gazing out across the docks and the sky into the ocean. Although her eyes did keep getting drawn back to the street and all the hustle and bustle down there. It was odd; Aerie clearly didn't like being crowded by strangers, especially not indoors. At the same time, she was clearly fascinated by all these people. She wanted to know the way they think and feel. Maybe she thought if she understood these things, she would have no reason to be afraid of them anymore.

The elf was lost in thought and seemed quite unaware of the assassins' presence. It would have been so easy to just push her over the edge, tell others that she must have slipped due to a sudden gust of wind. Although she suspected Imoen at least would be very hard to convince of such an unfortunate accident occurring. In any case, there was no guarantee even a fall like that would actually kill her. It depended how much she resisted as she fell; being Avariel, there was a good chance she would know not to. She might even be able to get some magic defence up before hitting the ground, or just get lucky and land in something soft, like the empty space between Edwin's legs.

In any case, Anishai simply watched. Watched the sea wind blow the girl's long fair hair back across her creamy white skin and reddened cheeks like the very picture of innocence. She seemed so soft and weak right now, like she could be ripped apart like rice paper and hardly a threat to anyone or anything. But she'd seen that this girl definitely had the will and determination to grow much stronger, if given the time.

"So, how was it?" The assassin asked. The elf spun around, body tense. She had no idea if she would need to fight or not. Not that it would make much difference.

"How was what?" The girl asked after a moment, working hard to suppress her nerves.

"Killing," Anishai said, taking a couple of strides so she was next to the elf. "It's actually very easy, isn't it? Far easier than most think. "But did it make you feel powerful, hmm?" The assassin purred, running a finger gently down the side of the elf's face. "See, most the thieves here, they just take the odd trinket from someone. But you took away everything that man had, or ever will."

The blonde slowly shook her head. "No," she said between breaths, "I-I didn't feel powerful at all… not… n-not after I knew I'd done it, anyway. But, I had to protect Imoen."

"Whatever works for you, dear," Anishai patted her as she turned to face the breeze**. **"Tell me something; what is it you see when you look out there?"

The elf regarded her curiously for a moment, and finally shrugged. "J-just… people."

"People?" The assassin squinted. "Really…"

"P-people coming, people going, getting on with their lives."

"Yes. They do that, don't they? It can be so thoughtless of them sometimes. Is that all?"

"There's…" the elf took a breath, "there's a man there, waiting. He's been waiting for nearly an hour, getting more and more anxious, so whoever he's waiting for must be late. H-he has a gift with him; perfume. So, i-it's probably a woman. I'm not sure, but I don't think people usually buy perfume for men, do they?"

"No. Not usually."

"There's a woman waiting down there as well. She… s-she's very pretty, but she's lonely. I think she's just waiting for someone to come and talk to her."

"Maybe you should hook them up with each other."

"No… t-that would be cruel to the first woman. There might be a very good reason why she's late."

"Or she's decided to stand him up."

"We can't know for sure, can we?"

"No," Anishai wondered just how many little narratives this girl had constructed in her head in the time she'd been up here. The assassin squinted, but all she could see down there were… people's hearts. "Is that all?"

"No," the elf lowered her head, closing her eyes so she could listen, the corners of her lips sliding downwards. "Between the boxes there's a little girl, crying."

"Children cry often. What of it?"

"S-she's tucked herself away, hardly makes a sound. She's not crying just because she wants attention. I-it's… not that she doesn't, she just knows that no matter how many tears she sheds, no one ever comes to help her. But she still cries, because she doesn't know how to make the tears stop."

"And why does she cry?"

"I don't know," Aerie said, like she'd just woken up, "i-if I did, I would help her. But maybe it's not the little girl… I… don't know…"

"But you see life everywhere you look. That's… very interesting," the assassin said with a weary sigh.

After a moment, the elf asked, "what about you? W-what do you see?"

"Oh… I see life, too. But in a different way," the assassin turned once again to face her, putting one hand on Aerie's chest, letting her fingers trickle, while her other hand she caressed gently around the blonde's arm, turning it other. "I see your heart, here," she said, softly thumping it. Her thumb rubbed gently around the elf's wrist. "Arteries, here. And here," in an instant, she had her hands clasped around the girl's neck, "trachea… hmmm, that's a good word, isn't it? Almost rolls it's way off the tongue."

Aerie felt no pressure on herself, nor was there any. Steeling her gaze, she pulled herself away. "How… h-how many people have you killed?"

"I'm really not sure. I've had many contracts, but I've not kept any record of them."

"Why?"

"Well, it would be foolish in the extreme to have anything so incriminating close by…"

"No. I-I mean, why did you kill them?"

"Because I'm paid to," the assassin shrugged. "It's what I do. What I've always done."

"That's the only reason?" One could almost see the fire burning in her eyes. Blue flame; very hot. Could melt steel. "D-did you know who any of them where?"

"Nobles, business rivals, some poor sod who happened to see something he shouldn't have. Sometimes it's revenge for some slight many years ago… I don't really care to know the reasons, although in those cases they usually insist on telling me anyway," up until now of course, she'd never had a contract to kill someone for something they hadn't done, yet. "I suppose it… is all a bit pathetic when you actually start to think about it. Oh well," she shrugged again.

"Have… have you ever killed someone you thought actually deserved to die?"

"My, but isn't that an impertinent question?" The assassin stepped forward suddenly, and the elf let out a small gasp as she stepped back. There had been a time when Anishai would have felt a thrill at such a reaction, but it was getting more and more difficult. "You are a very curious creature, aren't you?" She said, again running a hand gently across the blonde's face. "You should be more careful what you ask. Asking the wrong questions can get you killed in this world. Or the right ones… it really just depends on your point of view, I suppose, and whether you manage to stay alive afterwards. Perhaps you can answer some questions for me, Aerie, avariel, age fifty six. Don't know what that works out as in human years; about nineteen or twenty, I suppose."

"Er… w… what?" The elf blinked, startled by the sudden formality of the address.

"See, Renal was quite disturbed when he first saw you. He didn't know who you were or where you'd come from. And a man like that, he likes to think he knows everything; he most certainly doesn't, but still, we let him think it. So he's had his own elves do some digging and now he has a whole book about you… about all of you, in fact. It so happens, I managed to procure myself a copy as well," tucked under the assassin's belts were several parchments pinned together, "when he suddenly had to take a little nap. I can copy quite fast, although as it happens he was out all night. Rather disappointing, really."

"Oh… okay."

"Is that it? Okay? You should be flattered anyone would go to so much effort for a mere slave."

"I-I'm not a slave anymore," Aerie insisted, "and, i-it's not like I've ever hidden anything. If people want to know about me, they just have to ask. I've never killed anyone for asking questions."

"Captured by slavers in early adolescence, sold to a circus owner for quite a large sum… although he got a discount after, when they were attempting to transfer you into the wagon, you stabbed your handler through the foot with a nail you'd worked loose, broke his nose with your chains and then bit half his ear off… doesn't really sound like the shy, timid, helpless little thing most people see when they look at you, does it?"

"It… i-it was foolish," Aerie sighed, closing her eyes, "one small, malnourished girl thinking she could take on a small army."

"Yes, I imagine you were punished quite severely," Anishai said with a soft smile. Aerie winced with her eyes still closed. "But they never succeeded in putting all those fires out, did they?"

"What… what is the point of telling me all this?" The Avariel huffed suddenly. "I-I thought you had another question? And, h-how did he find all that out, anyway?"

Anishai grinned; she'd asked a right question. "You see, dear, there are things in here that even you don't know. Such as, for example, the name of the elven ranger who shot you out of the sky, still, it so happens, in the employ of other slave traders to this day. The lieutenants who sat idly by as those in the cages around you succumbed to sickness and starvation, the captain whose whip finally broke you, and the Lord and Lady who profited from all of this. Would you be interested in knowing any of those things?"

Aerie didn't answer. She was frozen, although not out of fear anymore. She was staring straight ahead, her eyes seeming to have suddenly hardened like stones. Or perhaps it was more apt to say that she was looking back. Anishai started to read.

"Amra Nightstalker… one of those rather pretentious elven names. Storn Ironside… a dwarf, I'm guessing. Bran Cutler, Lureene Castle, Sebastian De'Arnise, Thazer Fezim…"

"Their names don't mean anything to me," Aerie announced suddenly. "I-I couldn't understand much of what was being said at the time, anyway. B-b-besides, i-it was a long time ago. Most of them are probably dead or old by now, anyway."

"Then tell me, in your opinion, do any of these people deserve to die?" Anishai lent in close, whispered in the elf's ear, felt her heart beat. It did excite her, the prospect of revenge or what she believed was justice after all these years. "Only say the word, dear, and I'll see to it. No charge… just a… deed done."

"W-why?" The elf gulped.

"No."

"W-what?"

"The answer to your question before. It was no. Never. But before I go I intend there to be at least one, just…" the assassin paused, leaning back. It was obvious Aerie wasn't going to answer her at all; too many thoughts and feelings colliding in that pretty little head right now. Anishai patted her on the cheek. "Well, think about it, won't you? But don't take too long."

"Does it say anything else in there?" Heads turned to greet Imoen, who Aerie had seen return from her meeting with Renal a little while ago. Anishai narrowed her eyes at the redhead, and so the elf then kept hers on the assassin. "Anything about me?" The redhead skipped, snatching the parchment right out of the assassin's hand; Aerie tensed, ready for any kind of reaction from the woman.

"Let's see now," the redhead beamed, "Imoen, twenty one… ohhh… creative and highly intelligent, it says. Well, they got that right for sure. I am pretty darn amazing," she said, beaming wider and wider, but then stopping as she read on. "'Occasionally shows signs of acute narcissism?' What? Who wrote this drivel? This is totally outrageous… they're obviously just jealous of my good looks and irrepressible charm."

"The only word they got wrong was 'acute'," Anishai said. Then, standing with her hands on her hips, started to eye Imoen from her toes all the way up. "Still," she said, winking.

"Erright… Aerie, you come with me. Now. Please. And you," Imoen slapped the parchments across Anishai's chest. "You take your little book and go and stand somewhere fifty or more metres away from me."

To everyone's surprise the assassin bowed gracefully, and left.

"You should be careful around her, Imoen," Aerie breathed out at last, "s-she's not just a bully like Tira. She's a real killer."

"'Ya don't say?"

"Well… y-yes, I do… say. S-she just told me. Just like that… she didn't even try to dress it up like anything."

"Don't worry about her, Aerrers; we've got more important things," Imoen smiled reassuringly, "we've got a guild. And about four hundred doilies, but don't worry about that either."

Aerie groaned worriedly. "I'll be honest; w-when I left the circus, I wasn't really expecting to become a thief…"

"When does life ever turn out like we expect? Fifteen years ago, I was expecting to be a pirate princess with my own castle by now. But this'll have to do instead. Anyway, this isn't just going to be a thieves guild anymore; it's going to be a good guild. A guild that does good things for people."

"What kind of things?"

"Well… any good things that need doing that people need us to do for them," Imoen crunched up her face, trying to make sense of what had just come out of her own mouth. "Ah… anyway, we'll figure out all the itty bitty details later. First," Imoen stood exactly where Aerie had been standing, scanning the streets below, "we gotta let people know that we're here to help. Also got to advertise for a new chef. So come on."

Mere moments later, a little girl who had been crying looked up, blinking as the light suddenly fell upon her face from where a crate had been. In its place were a blonde elf with the biggest blue eyes, and a red haired human with the biggest smile.

"Heya, kiddo," Imoen said. "Seem to have got yourself a nice little den. I used to have a den when I was small. A little place I could curl up in whenever I was upset or angry. So which are you?"

The girl curled up more, her arms tightly holding her knees as she uttered, "can't… c-can't talk to strangers."

"Strangers? What, you don't know who I am? It's me! Imoen!" The redhead announced proudly, but the girl just gave her a blank look. "Imoen? Nothing? Beh… and I thought this place was meant to be civilized."

"No, I don't know who you are," the girl spat out suddenly, "do you know who I am?"

"Well… no…"

"So then, we're strangers, ain't we? Go away."

"We're only strangers until you tell me your name. And since I already told you mine, I think it's only fair, ain't it?"

The girl couldn't refute Imoen, who was clearly well versed in child logic. "It's Jenny. My name is Jenny."

"Well then, heya, Jenny. I'm Imoen, and this is Aerie."

"Why are you crying, Jenny?" Aerie asked softly.

"It's because of my sister. She went away."

"Oh… I'm… I'm sorry…"

"It ain't like she's dead nothing. I mean, no one knows what happened to her. One day she was here, and the next day she was gone. I… I know it's horrible and I shouldn't think it but, some days I… some days I wish she was dead," the girl blurted, now hardly able to speak between the rocking and the sobbing and trying to catch, "be… because now… e-everyday, momma lays a place for her at the table, like she thinks she's going to walk right in. B-but she's been gone for months, so there's no way, right? And it's… it's just… so… so sad. And dad… h-he keeps getting worse as well…"

Aerie put her hand to her mouth; it did almost look like she was biting down on her own forefinger. And Imoen felt her friend shiver, like she'd gotten very cold suddenly. "Momma…" she heard her say.

"Aerie," Imoen nodded back. The two of them turned away a moment. "Y'know, you can go wait in the guild if you want…"

"No," the elf answered positively, "I-I'm fine, Imoen. Do… do you think there's any way we can help her?"

"Well… there's not much that goes in this city that Renal Bloodscalp doesn't seem to know something about. Although I really don't want to ask him for too many favours," she sighed, "we can but try, I suppose."

"Yes… I-I think we should…"

"C'mon, Jenny… let's take you home."


End file.
